


Roses are Blue

by inertial



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Incest, M/M, Romance, Smut, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inertial/pseuds/inertial
Summary: Now proudly eighteen, Youngjae was curious about girls as any boy his age would be. Between his loving, protective brother, his foggy childhood and his lack of experience, Youngjae's biggest worry as of now was not knowing how to kiss.





	Roses are Blue

**Note** : This story may contain triggering themes! This is loosely set in the Victorian era. A ceiling rose ([picture](https://www.hm-online.co.uk/images/ceiling_roses/ceiling-rose-r73_detail_full.gif)) is where gas lighting would usually be attached to ([picture](https://www.hm-online.co.uk/prodimages/r73-orac-ceiling-rose-2.jpg)) so that only the ceiling rose will get burnt by the lamp and you only need to replace that instead of the entire ceiling. ^^ It's not very important.

 

 

 

[ **Roses are Blue** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwapQor9YyU&list=PLflKpEjRZwldo4iZ0tOhkJ_im2QpoxLFT)

 

Below the dent in the ceiling stood a portrait of the Jung's youngest son: a cherub, chubby boy now eighteen with pristine features the town deemed worthy of the title Snow White. His hair was black as ebony, skin as white as snow, and his lips were the most prized of them all—red as the sweetest rose on a summer night. 

He was very much an indulgent sight in the dreary neighbourhood where milk maids would gather and whisper fanatically about the aristocrat, more often about the damsel who would one day hold the exquisite privilege of being his. Of course, social classes dictated Youngjae was obligated to marry someone of noble birth as well, which explained why he was not attached at a ripe age of tender adolescence and cheeky innocence. 

His older brother, Daehyun, was a figure even more renowned. Against a silhouette of murky eyes, a strong nose and thick lips, Daehyun was chiselled with an attractiveness stark from his younger brother. He was all sharp angles and emphasised definition. The more the merrier, the girls often cajoled, for one embodied a soft beauty none could replicate while the other sibling crushed a strict handsomeness into his furrowed brows. 

Where the ceiling was crooked, there once laid a lovely ceiling rose in Daehyun’s room. It had a sturdy brass fixture attached to it, crafted in the shape of blooming roses. It was meant to be pipes for gas to be supplied to the lamps, but there were some problems in circulating the gas so the family opted for a wall sconce instead.

When the floor above caved in, the ceiling rose dropped along with the brass fixture. How this damage came about was by the Jung's youngest son who had one too many jumps from the bed when he was nine.

As always, it was Daehyun who rescued his brother from the collapsed floorboards. Nothing surprising, since Mister and Missus Jung had demised fourteen years ago and the two brothers had been inseparable since in spite of their five-year age gap. Understandably so, after the tragedy of the Jung household, where their parents were murdered on a fair night in March.

Youngjae did not stop holding Daehyun's hand till the younger Jung was thirteen years old and their uncle jested that it must be embarrassing for the siblings. Not that the boys realised, what with them having very little to do with the outside world. Where the other children ran through the markets and plucked weeds with bare hands, the brothers pranced around in their magnificent mansion and the meadow that laid beyond. Of course, they ventured to the markets with their nannies every now and then, but they were told they were different. The schoolchildren knew this too and never approached, so the distance was forged and acknowledged.

Quite intriguingly, Daehyun was the one who initiated this "ritual" of hand-holding. Wherever Youngjae wanted to go, Daehyun would follow like the faithful older brother he was. In fact, when Daehyun was eight, he took his three-year-old brother out on his own for the first time. The two would wander around past the boundless gossip the commoners cheaply indulged in, Youngjae peering around with doe eyes.

The schoolchildren often frightened the younger boy with their scurrying footsteps, clambering up the rusted fence of the town into the local cemetery on a dare. Fragile was the three year old who lived a sheltered life and had the counterproductive privilege of being the youngest—pampered by all in the family. Daehyun had the opportunity to shed his frail disposition with the birth of his brother, and even more so when his parents passed on and he took it upon himself to raise Youngjae.

His protectiveness over his younger brother had yet to wilt despite Youngjae's coming of age. None questioned this phenomenon; they only pitied a boy who grew up too early and assumed a hefty role at nine years old.

“Brother, I'm going out into the garden.” The young aristocrat tied his shoelaces, throwing a quick glance back at his older brother.

Daehyun closed the newspapers he was reading. “Be careful. I'll send Jongwan out with you to pick any roses you fancy.” He let out another call, bidding the butler over.

“Brother, I am just going for a walk,” Youngjae mumbled, blowing up his cheeks when his brother placed down his newspapers.

“You said that the past few times as well, yet came back with cuts down your hands.” Daehyun rose from the armchair and crossed over, retrieving a sunhat from the cabinet. He rested it on his brother's head. “You never learn,” he chuckled.

“You treat me like a child.” Youngjae lightly nudged away Daehyun's hands, annoyance manifesting in his tone.

“Because you act like one.” Daehyun adjusted the boy's shirt, stepping out into the afternoon. “Bring me an umbrella, a pair of scissors and some gloves, Jongwan.”

“Right away, sir.”

Youngjae fluttered his lashes as the butler swiftly returned, handing the items to Daehyun. The older Jung opened the umbrella and tucked the remaining into his pocket, excusing the butler.

“You are coming with me, Brother?”

“Yes. I need a breath of fresh air. The house is too stuffy,” Daehyun heaved, winding an arm around his younger brother's waist and pulling him into the shade.

The trimmed grass bristled beneath their feet in a rhythmic pattern. Tap, tap, tap. The younger Jung lifted an arm and prodded up the parasol’s canopy, revealing more of the vibrant scenery. 

Their garden was a prized attraction where visitors never missed the opportunity to roam through, maintained pristinely in the late memory of their deceased parents. Beneath the soil laid their corpses.

It boasted a lush plethora of red roses, all stunningly identical. The more assorted ones laid in the corner, a coalescence of varying colours sitting amongst the bushes. Out of the uniform red hue fell a disarray of pink, ivory, yellow, apricot—the mishmash of pigmentation strangely adoring after a trip through the ceaseless red.

“You used to follow me out into the garden when I was younger, too,” Youngjae spoke, adoring eyes raking over the dozens of blooming roses. He vaguely remembered his history of donning one too many cuts and bruises, blood and blue almost like a woollen shirt that clung to his skin. Daehyun oft humoured him with stories where clumsy Youngjae tumbled through the garden and went too near the roses, earning himself his blue and red badges.

“I did. I could never leave you alone for too long,” Daehyun reminisced. Sunlight carved out his side profile, strong features contradicting with his younger brother’s dainty ones. They were playful boys back in those days, but thankfully, there were no too disastrous consequences.

“I remember whenever we played Hide and Go Seek. You would shroud yourself in the bushes and get yourself pricked, just so you could win the game.”

“Did you ever find me, Brother?” Youngjae asked. The grass rustled beneath their shoes, Daehyun gazing ahead with his usual nonchalance.

“Of course,” Daehyun heaved, pulling up a minuscule smile. “You were always so bruised from running around. It’d be strange if I didn’t find someone as blue as you in all that red.”

“But technically, I still won, right? You couldn’t catch me since I was in the bushes,” Youngjae chortled. Daehyun smiled wider, drumming yesterday’s downpour into Youngjae’s side.

“Like the good brother I was, I crawled in to get you,” Daehyun hummed, chuckling when Youngjae rolled his eyes. “I had so many scratches because of you.”

The rose garden was somewhat like a labyrinth, both literally and metaphorically. Guests winded their way through a series of turns, wallowing in a splendid serenity beneath the unintelligible, distant chatter from town and the all-encompassing stillness. 

There was only one way out, which took a rather lengthy few minutes, unless one returned to the entrance. There was another way but that included shredding one’s skin while barging through the bushes—something Daehyun stated that Youngjae foolishly tried.

In a sense, the garden was a trap with its adamant one-way route. It was not as if guests minded it, for the allure already bewitched them to stay. Even the youngest Jung found himself enraptured again and again by the rose garden that lived even before he did.

“Your teacher tells me you have been falling back on your tests,” Daehyun mentioned. His murky eyes darted over to his younger brother who sullenly pursed his lips.

“It is tiring to study,” Youngjae protested softly. “I feel as if I’m buried in my books.”

“I know. A drop of one or two grades is understandable, but you have been failing consistently across all your subjects.” Daehyun’s fingers lingered by his brother’s hips as he sighed. “I suppose your trips to Junhong’s residence have not been productive.”

Youngjae kept mum. Daehyun heaved once more and stopped his brother in his tracks, turning to face the younger boy.

“You are eighteen. I do not want to keep a tight rein on you, but you must know this is for your own good.”

“I understand, Brother,” Youngjae whispered. There was some remorse toiling within him for the trips to Junhong’s home were not for reading as he claimed.

As with any boy, Youngjae was curious about the maidens that frolicked across town. It was definite he would not be wedded to any commoner—his uncle would never allow such a monstrosity to taint their bloodline—but he still took to staring whenever the pretty ones fluttered by.

As his family was the only nobility in town with children his age, he had no experience in courtship. In comparison, his cousin, Junhong, lived in a much more astir town where several aristocrats resided. Junhong offered him a window of opportunity—he himself wanted to venture and had been speaking more to the other noble ladies of his age.

Daehyun had been reluctant to let Youngjae lodge at his cousin's abode, but after several letters between Daehyun and their uncle, he eventually allowed Youngjae to visit for two consecutive days every month.

It had been a few months since the arrangement was forged. Youngjae knew a tad bit more about girls—the scent they carried that made them seem like flowers, the way they crossed their legs and held their tea cups with a pinky out, how they spoke like a fragile sonata in Spring. He was rather awkward as compared to his cousin, but the girls still seemed interested in him.

“It will rain soon,” Daehyun remarked as they continued strolling. He glanced up at the contradicting weather, sunlight vehemently engulfing them. Youngjae touched a passing rose, admiring how saturated its red was.

Daehyun tugged out the gloves and wore them swiftly, snipping the pitiful rose. He shaved off the thorns and handed it to his brother.

“I didn’t mean for you to cut it.” A tinge of guilt laced the youngest Jung’s gaze as he twirled the flower.

“It will live for a week more, so don’t fret.” Daehyun thumbed his younger brother’s cheek and slipped back the scissors into his pocket. “Irene is coming in an hour. Let’s head back for you to bathe.”

Youngjae puffed up his cheeks slightly and muttered, “Irene gives me a lot of homework.” 

Daehyun chuckled. “You may be eighteen, but you are still a child on the inside,” he commented, albeit not to demean. He intertwined their fingers firmly and lead the boy towards their home.

Jongwan drew up a milk bath for Youngjae upon Daehyun’s request. Along the white surface drifted a bountifulness of roses and Daehyun watched his younger brother slip out of his clothes. In a few years, the blue from his bruises and slits had thankfully subsided into small blemishes and needle-like bumps. Youngjae’s body had always been beautiful to Daehyun, however, no matter the blemishes all over. Now, the scars were almost unnoticeable.

Youngjae sat down into the bathtub and rested his head against the edge, gazing up at his older brother. Daehyun sat down on a stool by his side.

“I’ll speak to Irene later,” Daehyun said, gently threading his fingers through his brother’s hair. “If you promise to put in more effort into your studies.”

Youngjae nodded as Daehyun’s fingers drizzled down to his cheek. “Did you have a good time at Junhong’s yesterday?” Daehyun questioned.

“Mm,” Youngjae mumbled, rather unwilling to speak to his brother about his visit.

“Are the girls there pretty?”

Youngjae stilled at Daehyun’s question while the older brother seemed primarily unconcerned. “Uncle tells me more than you think, Youngjae. Besides, I already knew without his letters.”

“How did you know?” Youngjae coughed.

“You were laughing to me a month before then about Junhong’s letters on the girls in his hometown. Then, you suddenly said you wanted to visit Junhong to learn beyond your curriculum.”

Daehyun cocked a brow in amusement. “In all my years, I had never seen you so interested in learning.”

He picked up a dried rose and tucked it behind Youngjae’s ear. “You could have simply asked for permission. You’re in your prime now; I won’t deny you the right to date.”

“Sorry, Brother.” Youngjae churned out a small smile, some relief dwindling the tension in his back. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Daehyun’s lips curled. “So, are they pretty?” He asked.

“A few are. There’s one that’s very pretty. Her name is Jessica.”

“And how old is she?”

“Three years older than me.” Youngjae squirmed around. “The morning before I departed, we were having a game of truth or dare. The girls and Junhong too had kissed someone before. I felt quite embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You’re still young.”

“But what happens when I find someone, Brother? I do not know how to kiss. It would be embarrassing.”

Daehyun laughed. “That is unavoidable, isn’t it? You will have no experience prior to your first partner.”

“I’m already eighteen, brother,” Youngjae insisted. “Girls will think I am strange. Most of the others have already learnt how to kiss.”

“I doubt that’s true.” Daehyun tenderly ruffled his brother’s hair.

“Aren’t you worried about these things, brother?” Youngjae peered up with questioning eyes. “You aren’t attached.”

“Barely. You worry too much about trivial things,” Daehyun hummed. He reached behind and took the stalk of rose he cut from before, tearing it apart and littering the petals into the bath.

Youngjae pursed his lips at Daehyun’s remark, lowering his gaze. “Have you ever kissed someone, brother?”

Daehyun batted his lashes slowly. “Two.”

“Who?” Youngjae widened his eyes.

“The Song’s daughter on the other side of town. We had a fling before she moved to the States.”

“That was six years ago. Victoria was half a decade older than you, Brother.” Youngjae stared at him with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was a fling, like I said. We weren’t too interested in one another.”

“Still, you should have told me.” Youngjae pursed his lips. He seemed upset, but got over it anyway. 

“Who was the second person, brother?” He asked carefully.

Daehyun chuckled. “You. We used to kiss on the lips when you were younger, don’t you remember?”

Youngjae groaned. He ignored Daehyun’s comment and continued, “So, you’ve kissed someone. You even dated her. Even though Junhong’s younger than me, he has also had his first kiss.”

“I didn’t have any experience before my first kiss, you know. Everyone doesn’t.”

“It’s not that, Brother. It’s that I’m at this age but I still don’t know how to kiss.”

Daehyun smiled fondly, amusement weaving into his dark eyes as he watched his younger brother rattle on. Their age gap narrowed their overlap of understanding, but Youngjae himself was quite childlike for his age which thinned it down even more. Despite this, both siblings still loved each other dearly.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself,” Youngjae surmised. Milk crawled to his shoulders as he sank into the bath of white, petals drawing to the circumference of his neck. “I wish I could practise.”

“Practise?” Daehyun laughed heartily, sweeping aside Youngjae’s fringe. “And where will you find someone like that to practise with?”

Youngjae submerged even lower after hearing Daehyun’s words, his lower lip right on the shuddering meniscus of the milk. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, stealing a glance before averting his gaze from his brother.

“Well, if you do find out who you have in mind, I’ll try to help you forge a contract with them,” Daehyun joked. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Youngjae’s temple.

Outside, a thunderstorm brewed, cacophony and drizzle mingling inexorably. Daehyun rose and headed to the door. “Don’t soak for too long, else you’ll get prune fingers. I will come back in a few to dry you off.”

 

\--

 

“Two days a month is too little, don’t you think, Daehyun?”

The man with smile lines chiselled into his sagging cheeks crossed his legs, sitting opposite Daehyun in the living room. He twirled his unlit cigar in his hand, mouth drooping to accommodate an imaginary one. Daehyun’s uncle breathed tobacco more so than air, but Daehyun forbid any person from smoking in their residence, fearing it would harm Youngjae.

Daehyun sipped his tea, leaning back into the sofa. “Two days a month would mean almost a month in a year he spends over at your place, Uncle. I think I’m being quite generous.”

The much older man gave a raucous laugh that hacked away into coughs. He drawled with a grin, “He is a man now. You need to be more lenient with him. You are too overprotective.”

“It’s not a matter of chasing girls,” Daehyun returned lightly. “True, I’ve said I disapprove of it—especially when my brother has barely got a grasp on his studies—but that’s not the main reason. I’d miss him if he was gone for too long.”

“You two. At this rate, you might as well get married to him,” the elder teased heartily. “I’m already keeping a watch on the boy, am I not? I have said I would intervene if things progressed too far. Who he marries will still be your choice.”

“He has been telling me about some maiden named Jessica. I wonder if you’re supporting my brother on his silly endeavour in secret, Uncle,” Daehyun jested.

“Jessica, you say? She already has a fiancé.” Daehyun’s uncle frowned. “Never thought the boy had it in him. He looks so innocent.”

“As if Youngjae would know. Besides, he only called her pretty, but I’m worried since she’s older than him. You surely know of those vixens who like to whore around before they get married.”

“Of course. I’ve had the displeasure of meeting a few,” Daehyun’s uncle laughed. He slurped his tea till the cup was drained. This immediately incited the butler’s attention who had been standing by simply for this reason.

“More tea, sir?” Jongwan offered in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Jongwan raised the tea pot precariously, the intricate ceramic trembling in his hands. His blemished skin revealed his age, laboriously stretched over strands of green veins. All the while, Daehyun’s uncle raked his beady eyes over the butler’s ministrations.

Some red tea spilled over onto the beige tablecloth, staining it a diluted brown. “My deepest apologies, sir,” Jongwan quickly said, cleaning the spill as Daehyun’s uncle waved his words away.

As Jongwan exited the lounge to wash the rag, Daehyun’s uncle clicked his tongue, tugging out a tissue to wipe the trail of tea down the side of his tea cup. “Your butler’s old now. You should change him out. Look at the mess he made.”

“That was but an accident,” Daehyun provided, watching Jongwan vanish into the kitchen. “I had him spend the whole night pruning the garden so he’s lacking some sleep.”

“You always give such reasons,” the older man pointed out. “Another half a decade or so and he’ll be in his seventies, no? You will run out of excuses by then.”

“He does his job perfectly well, Uncle,” Daehyun said. 

The elder shook his head gravely. He smacked his lips before starting sombrely, “Daehyun, I understand you may be attached to him. But I must remind you that the only reason you became attached was because… he did not do his job well.”

“Uncle, this is why he makes mistakes whenever you are present,” Daehyun heaves with a small grin. “He never errs unless you are here to scrutinise him. He’s aware you still think poorly of him.”

“You are too naïve and forgiving, Daehyun,” the older man remarks, subtle disappointment dripping from his tone. A bout of silence wafted over the two men, both heads of their respective families, yet so disparate in age.

Jongwan returned to his place in a few minutes, arms crossed behind his back. Above, some thuds could be heard from Youngjae’s room, Daehyun whipping his head towards the direction of the noise. Daehyun’s uncle cracked a fond smile.

“Your brother might put a hole in the ceiling again.”

“I think he might.” Daehyun laughed, though the subtle concern layered his eyes. He stood up and headed down the aisle. “I’ll go check on him.”

Along the stairs, there were several portraits lined. These artworks were crafted by esteemed artists, crafted with a riveting preciseness. The one by Daehyun’s bedroom contrasted the lot of elegant masterpieces. It was framed all the same with ochre despite its many smudges and the stick caricatures of two boys in a rose garden. Youngjae drew it for Daehyun when he was three years old, but Daehyun only hung it up after their parents’ demise.

Knocking on Youngjae’s door, Daehyun swung it open to find Junhong and Youngjae wrestling across the floor. Youngjae laid breathless beneath his younger cousin, an exuberant glint dancing in his eyes as he struggled.

Both of them looked to the unwelcomed guest. Daehyun furrowed his brows and questioned, “What are you two doing?”

“We were testing our strength,” Junhong declared cheekily. Youngjae punched him in his shoulder while he was distracted and the younger boy toppled onto the ground with a groan.

“Brother,” Youngjae called lightly. He slipped out from under his cousin and flopped onto the bed. “Is Uncle leaving now?”

“No. I came up to see what you two were doing.” Daehyun’s frown remained as he paced over, pulling Youngjae’s arm gently. Red thumped at his wrists where Junhong held him down.

Daehyun let out a sigh. “You two are much too old to be roughhousing.” He angled his chin towards Junhong and beckoned, “Jongwan has laid out some tidbits for you two.”

“Yes!” Junhong scurried out immediately. Youngjae wanted to follow but Daehyun held on to him, sternly regarding the boy.

“Are you hurt?” He thumbed the soreness over Youngjae’s arm and sighed. “Why would you challenge Junhong? He’s the equivalent of a giant.”

“I’m fine, brother,” Youngjae laughed. “We were just playing around.”

“Do you honestly need to “play” with Junhong like this, of all people?” Daehyun prodded Youngjae’s forehead. “Even I would have a little trouble going against him.”

“Well, it’s your fault that you don’t play much with me,” Youngjae countered in a buoyant tone.

Daehyun cocked a brow. He pushed the boy down onto the bed and Youngjae shrieked, his brother tickling him.

“Such a child,” Daehyun mused, his fingers slipping up the boy’s shirt along his sides. Youngjae begged him to stop through his laughter but Daehyun persisted till Youngjae accidentally kicked him in the stomach.

“You were asking for it!” Youngjae chortled, a blush decorating his plump cheeks. Daehyun rubbed his stomach with a wince, feigning a glare as he pinched his brother’s thigh.

“There. You’ve had enough play for one day. Come down and have some snacks.” Daehyun interlocked fingers with his brother and guided him down the stairs. “You know, Uncle and I were worrying you would break the floor again.”

Youngjae puffed. “It wasn’t my fault. The floors are too fragile; I was just a child but I could break it.”

“You’re not wrong.” Daehyun stopped Youngjae when they went past the library which was once Daehyun’s room. He nudged open the door and pointed to the slight indent in the ceiling, fondly mentioning, “There used to be a ceiling rose and a faulty light fixture there. I’d hang your cradle from it so I could rock you.” 

“I’m surprised it never snapped. I guess it was fixed very tightly to the ceiling.” Daehyun grinned. “On hindsight, hanging you there may have been too much weight.”

“See? It was not my fault.” Youngjae stuck out his tongue.

Daehyun laughed as they paced into the garden. Their cousin sat at the patio and he threw a snicker at their direction when he noticed their twined hands. Youngjae ignored him, only letting go to grab a cookie.

They had some scones with jam, the three young men conversing with one another while Junhong’s father smoked elsewhere. Youngjae and Junhong were mostly the ones who spoke, whereas Daehyun simply watched. After a sumptuous dinner prepared by the chefs, Daehyun escorted his uncle and his cousin out the door.

Evening dawned upon the Jungs with a fuchsia tint, Daehyun gazing at his younger brother. The pink touched Youngjae’s face gently, accentuating his doe eyes and his small face. He was once again playing with Junhong, the two pressing their foreheads together to see who could out-headbutt the other.

“I’ll pay you another visit in a few months’ time, Daehyun.”

“That’s good to hear. Take care on your way back, Uncle.” Daehyun tore his gaze away from his brother and lowered his voice. “Please keep a watch on my brother when he is in your care. And that girl Jessica—I’d like it if they didn’t get too close to one another.”

“Yes, yes,” Daehyun’s uncle assured, tapping his cigar. He bid his son into the carriage and the two waved goodbye. Daehyun stepped into the house and turned his head back.

“Are you coming in?”

Youngjae grinned and bolted after his brother.

 

\--

 

Jongwan served the Jungs since two decades ago, having been hired after Daehyun was conceived. He served the Jung family at a ripe age of forty-two, having garnered great experience and a worthy resume after serving at other noble houses. He was highly renowned for his efficiency and his resourcefulness, but his reputation as a well-rounded butler fell to shambles after his masters’ murders.

As the head butler, Jongwan was responsible for the household—yet he allowed an intruder to enter and commit such a violent murder. He unforgivably let the culprit escape and thus, he led a life of shame in the gossips of the commoners and under the demeaning stares from the Jung relatives. Many suspected him for having orchestrated the homicide himself and covered it up, but there was no evidence that could ascertain he committed the crime.

The only reason why Jongwan was not exiled was because of Jung Daehyun, the oldest son of the Jungs. At nine years old, Jung Daehyun was unlike other noble children that were spoilt and bratty—a common consequence of their sheltered childhood. He was mature and intelligent for his age, and his quiet nature showed his sensibility. Like Youngjae, he was also very energetic and reckless, even though it seemed a contradiction with his quietness. He often wore several bruises and cuts from his imaginative plays.

Nine-year-old Jung Daehyun asked his uncle to let Jongwan stay. Shockingly, he refused to eat and speak unless Jongwan remained as his butler. Daehyun’s uncle never knew Daehyun was close to the butler, to the point he would do such childish things.

For a year, Daehyun’s uncle sent some of his staff over to keep watch. He considered taking Daehyun and Youngjae in, but decided against it for it would interfere with his own family. 

“Your mail, Mr. Jung.”

“Thank you, Jongwan.” Daehyun sighed as he thumbed through the letters, tossing aside the few brown ones that were letters from ladies in the opposite town. He lifted his eyes just before the butler exited the room.

“Would you like to go on a vacation?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Jung,” Jongwan declined politely. His cheeks were sagging from the years he spent under the same roof. “I have done nothing to deserve such a reward.”

“You say that every year whenever I ask,” Daehyun chuckled. “I will pay for your expenses. I hear the opposite town has a new inn opened by the stream.”

“I am contented with my life under your employment, sir.”

“Still, you must take a break from life sometimes,” Daehyun hummed. He swiped a white envelope, a thick wad of cash shrouded within. “Take it.”

“Mr. Jung, I cannot-”

“Take it, Jongwan. It is a little extra on top of your normal pay. You deserve some rest after working so much.” Daehyun smiled and twiddled the enveloped between his fingers expectantly.

Jongwan hesitantly stepped forward and took the envelope carefully. “Thank you so much, sir.”

“Go enjoy yourself.” Daehyun returned to his paperwork before glancing up again. “Please check on my younger brother. I’m afraid he’ll give Irene some trouble. And toss the rest of Uncle’s gifts in the attic.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jongwan shut the door behind him. He walked down the same aisle of twenty-three years and into the kitchen. He brought up some tea and biscuits for the younger Jung before taking the ornaments Daehyun’s uncle had bought. He heaved them up the stairs and tiredly brought them into the attic.

Some dust billowed as he stepped in, the head butler frowning at the attic’s condition. The maids were not doing their jobs properly; he would have to reprimand them later.

He sat down and sorted out the ornaments, placing them on the shelves. Daehyun had sieved through them this morning and left behind these that he did not fancy. Amongst these was a generic painting that Daehyun’s uncle received as a gift but did not want, so he passed it along.

Jongwan roamed to the chest in the corner to put them away. When he opened it, a grey cloud wheezed out and he coughed, swatting away the dust. It was much too dirty to be left like this, so Jongwan retrieved a rag. He took out the abandoned pictures within and wiped down the chest. 

He gingerly wiped the frames with a new cloth too, ensuring the wet cloth did not touch any of the canvases. The last one in the stack stared up at Jongwan and he parted his lips, recognising the piece. 

It was the Jung’s only family picture that he had taken down many years ago, more specifically in the year his masters passed on. The household did not boast many photos before the owners’ death, only some given paintings hung up on the wall.

As per custom, the family photo was turned facing inwards—to prevent spirits from possessing relatives. A few months after the funeral, Jongwan returned the photograph to its original position. However, he soon took the portrait down because of the Jung’s eldest son. Daehyun was but a child at that time; he cried seeing the photo and often weathered horrible nightmares because of it.

Daehyun’s uncle interrogated the butler on where it went, suspecting some foul play. He dropped the matter as soon as he realised it was at Daehyun’s request that the photo was removed. After all, he had no say in the trauma of a child who saw with his own two eyes his parents bathed in blood.

Jongwan kept the photo as the family portrait had some sentimental aspect to it. No, it was not for sentiments exactly. It was out of courtesy he had for his former masters, that he respected them always. It brought him a sense of peace and comfort during the few years dating the homicide.

Jongwan cautiously wiped the portrait and placed it into the chest. He went downstairs to prune the roses as always.

 

\--

 

Night encapsulated the large mansion along the outskirts of the town. It was eleven o’clock, and the moonlight slipped through the little gaps the curtains missed. Daehyun put aside his novel and got up from the armchair, having been reading for the past hour in the library.

He stepped up the stairs, the floorboards thumping underneath his weight. Walking past his bedroom, he peeked into the younger brother’s room. Youngjae laid bundled in his blanket like a lump over his bed.

Daehyun walked over to his table and cleared the clutter of stationery scattered all over, shaking his head. He inspected what Youngjae had been writing as he organised his brother’s items. Among the crumpled sheets of scented paper laid one that had not been balled up yet. On it wrote:

_The rose is red, the violet's blue,_

_The honey's sweet, and so are you._

Daehyun raised a brow in amusement and let out a low exhale, glancing to the sleeping boy when he heard him shift against the mattress.

He roamed over and laid the blanket up to Youngjae’s chin, watching the boy’s eyelids tremble just the slightest. Daehyun slipped under the duvet and gazed at Youngjae. His brother was certainly beautiful—the whispers that trailed him since they were young were testaments to his ethereal handsomeness. No doubt would the ladies be enamoured over in the next town, no matter if he was green.

Daehyun pressed his lips to Youngjae’s cheeks, laying his head where their noses almost touched. “I know you are awake,” he started in a low voice.

Youngjae continued squinting his eyes shut for a moment more before reluctantly fluttering them open. “How did you know?”

“I just did,” Daehyun surmised, noting his brother’s eyes were puffy. He brushed his brother’s hair aside and hummed, “Why are you not sleeping?”

“I can’t,” Youngjae mumbled. He fidgeted before confessing in a minuscule voice, “I was looking out at the rose garden and I thought of our parents.”

Daehyun blinked slowly, caressing Youngjae’s cheek. “I keep thinking about how cruelly they went,” Youngjae said feebly as his gaze fell. Tears promptly welled up in his eyes.

Daehyun sighed at the downcast expression dripping from his brother’s face. For a few years, the press ran the story cum ‘mystery galore’ so enthusiastically like the greedy pigs they were, gobbling up as much share of the revenue churned from the sensational Jung homicide. Their inconsideration for the grieving family was nothing short of disgusting, especially since seven-year-old Youngjae later found out the grisly details through a newspaper.

“They always make you so blue,” Daehyun remarked softly, churning out a small smile as he thumbed away the trace of wetness.

“Don’t brood over the past. It changes nothing,” he consoled. “Our parents are in a better place now—together. And for us, we have each other.”

“Mm.” Youngjae slipped down and burrowed himself into Daehyun’s chest, heaving contentedly at the arms that instinctively cradled him closer. It was his sanctuary for a whopping eighteen years, from the times he scraped his knees to when the closet door creaked at night.

Wanting to change the subject, Daehyun teased, “What were the letters I found on your desk?”

Youngjae bit his lower lip and sheepishly admitted, “Junhong told me to write to the girls before I return again. He said it would be romantic.”

“No one would swoon with such trite poetry.”

Youngjae puffed up his cheeks. He nestled further into Daehyun’s chest and asked, “Did you really date Victoria without telling me, Brother?”

Daehyun glimpsed at the boy in his arms. “I’m sorry. You were only seven at that time; you were too young to understand.”

“You always treat me like this.” He turned away, evidently sulking. “So, you dated her for five years.”

“I wouldn’t consider it dating. After the first year, she lost all interest in me and we barely met,” Daehyun divulged.

He chuckled, winding his arms around Youngjae’s waist. “Why? Are you upset that I had my first kiss at thirteen and you still haven’t had yours?”

“See! You said it was normal but now, you’re teasing me for it,” Youngjae grumbled. He buried his face into his pillow. “If the girls ever kiss me, I will be a laughing stock.”

“It isn’t so difficult to kiss, Youngjae,” Daehyun chortled. “You make it sound as if you may gnaw off your partner’s face.”

“I might!” Youngjae protested. “And I am not overreacting. The girls were telling Junhong and me about how one of the boys in town was such a bad kisser.”

“Well then, they aren’t very nice girls, are they?”

“You don’t understand, brother,” Youngjae mumbled into his pillow. “I wish I knew how to kiss.”

Daehyun smiled, pressing his nose to Youngjae’s hair and inhaling the boy’s scent. “Do you want to try it with me?” He teasingly asked.

Youngjae rolled over, staring up at his brother with large eyes. “You mean, kissing?”

Daehyun nodded, amusedly watching as he patiently expected Youngjae to mutter how strange it was and turn away. However, Youngjae simply stared, contemplating to himself.

“Okay,” Youngjae replied. Daehyun looked down at his brother with a few blinks.

“Really?” He was surprised that his brother would acquiesce. He had offered to help mostly to tease the boy.

“Mm. Were you pulling my leg, brother?” Youngjae returned as he frowned slightly.

“No,” Daehyun assured. After a moment, he shifted down to level his eyes with his brother.

“Are you sure about this?” Daehyun asked.

Youngjae nodded. “I want to know how it’s like,” he admitted, a faint sheepishness in his voice. “Junhong told me it tickles.”

“Somewhat,” Daehyun answered, glimpsing down to his brother’s lips. “Well, if you really want this…”

He paused and gave Youngjae a fair warning through their locked gaze, slowly inching forward. Finally, Daehyun delicately pressed their lips together.

It had been almost a decade since they last pecked one another on the lips. Daehyun had his fair share of kisses and beyond that with his fling, Victoria having been rather promiscuous. Despite his years of experience, Daehyun felt stiff as his last kiss had been some years ago.

His lips tingled. Daehyun tilted his head and took Youngjae’s lower lip between his lips, sucking gently. His brother tasted sweet, though not like honey. He was sweet like a rose, like what a fervour’s flavour would be, like the aftertaste of wanting more. 

Daehyun kissed harder. Youngjae let out a small noise and it seemed Daehyun’s wits escaped him for a moment as he delved his tongue into his brother’s mouth. It was a very nice flavour, unlike the menthol lozenges he always tasted from Victoria’s mouth.

They parted after a while, Youngjae having stayed mostly inert except for a few clumsy attempts to kiss back. His face was flushed red and his lips were swollen, the younger boy panting weakly. Daehyun simmered back to his senses and comprehended the face in front of him belatedly.

His insides stirred and he leaned his lower half away from his brother. “How was it?” Daehyun smiled, patting Youngjae’s head.

“It’s… nice,” Youngjae breathed, wiping his lips and simpering as well. A tinge of shyness laced his words, still out of breath. His eyes abruptly lit up in excitement and he asked, “How was I, brother?”

Daehyun pursed his lips and bit back a chuckle when Youngjae’s smile drooped. “A little sloppy,” Daehyun truthfully said and laughed as Youngjae’s face fell, “but it’s your first time, so no one would expect you to be an expert.”

“I knew it. This is why I said I needed practice,” Youngjae groaned.

“Well, we can always practise another time,” Daehyun said. He tucked Youngjae in and kissed the boy’s nose. “Go to bed. I promised you I’d take you to the theatre in the next town and we have to leave by nine.”

Youngjae cheered, exuberance radiant in his chubby cheeks. Daehyun smiled and attempted to get up when Youngjae grabbed on to his sleeve. It was reminiscent of their younger days where five-year-old Youngjae would cry if Daehyun left the bed to get a snack or use the washroom.

“Can you sleep with me? I’m still afraid,” Youngjae softly said.

Daehyun’s expression softened. “Why are you afraid?”

Youngjae swallowed and mumbled, “I keep thinking of what happened. I’m afraid the same thing will happen to me… Or worse, I could be sleeping in this room and you…” He harshly patted his lips like reprimanding himself for speaking taboo, looking utterly miserable.

Daehyun batted his lashes and slipped back under the covers. He stroked his brother’s hair and whispered, “I’ll always protect you. You know that well, don’t you?”

He twined an arm around Youngjae’s waist and brushed their noses. “And if that person ever comes back to harm you, I’ll end him.” He pretended to box the air and Youngjae laughed. He gladly cuddled against Daehyun’s chest.

“I’m really happy you’re here with me, Brother.” His cheek nestled into Daehyun’s ribs. Sleepiness tinted his words through a small yawn. “I’ll protect you too. I promise.”

Daehyun pecked Youngjae’s head and held the boy tight. “Okay.”

 

\--

 

As with every nobility, the townsfolk looked at the Jung brothers with revere and awe. With this came envy that commonly manifested into resentment for the family that lived in riches and never had to worry about bread and butter. Many claimed that despite the tragedy that befell the family, the Jung brothers still lived life like a bed of roses. They were not like the other children who had to help out their parents in the market stores or the bakeries. They never wore rags or dwelled outside in the summer heat.

The Jung brothers were often seen as pampered for this reason, unkind words lacerating the mouths of the bitter. They knew no hardship and lived life in an oblivious bliss. 

Still, most regarded the Jungs with an appropriate distance, like living in parallel universes within the same town. As such, it was not surprising the two brothers only had each other. The only other nobility, the Songs, moved away 5 years ago. Their only daughter, Song Victoria, was quite the bratty one. Her relationship with Daehyun started when the boy was twelve and she was seventeen. She did not fancy younger boys but had to settle for Daehyun.

At that time, Youngjae was seven years old. What Victoria loathed most about her so-called boyfriend then was his careless disregard for her. He made no effort to squeeze time out for her and made it clear their dates could only be one and a half hours at most, needing to return to his brother. There was no romance in a relationship with someone who was a brother through and through, for you would never be the top priority.

Could Jung Daehyun be blamed? His younger brother only had him. After the loss of his parents, coupled with the fact that their relatives were in a distant town, Youngjae was left excruciatingly alone at the age of four. Daehyun was his father, his brother, and his friend all in one. Daehyun was his everything. Thus, every time Daehyun left, poor little Youngjae had absolutely nobody.

And what Daehyun hated the most was to see Youngjae blue.

“You cut your fingers again, didn’t you?” Daehyun called from the door. He had been searching the house for his brother and had just a few moments ago noticed him in the garden, watching him twiddle with his fingers.

Youngjae whipped his head over and gave a smile, his older brother shaking his head. Mid-afternoon tenderly fell upon the two brothers, Daehyun’s shoes flattening the grass as he briskly paced over.

“I told you to bring one of the servants with you whenever you wanted to pick the roses,” Daehyun sighed. He took Youngjae’s hands and inspected them, carefully dabbing the small cuts Youngjae got from the rose thorns.

“Jongwan accompanied me for a while,” Youngjae filled in. “But I told him to go back since I hadn’t planned on plucking any flowers. I’m sorry, Brother.”

He cautiously prodded the petals of one rose, a strong blood red that almost spoke a similar nobility as the two brothers did. Along its thorns were a minuscule tinge of red from Youngjae’s careless endeavour.

“You should not apologise to me,” Daehyun returned. “You are hurting yourself, not me.”

“But you get hurt too when I’m hurt,” Youngjae said with an endearing cheekiness.

“If you realise that, then take better care of yourself.” Daehyun tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket, bits of crimson staining the white fabric. “Let’s go in. I’ll get you the medicine.”

“They’re just a few cuts, brother,” Youngjae soothed. His gaze raked over the garden with a soft enchantment. “It’s a shame that roses have thorns. They’re so beautiful.”

“They have their imperfections as we do,” Daehyun surmised. “Besides, the thorns are there to protect the roses.” 

He was still fixated on Youngjae’s slits. Definitely, they were minor scratches, but he worried they would get infected. 

Youngjae thoughtfully nodded and brooded on the insight. Daehyun suggested, “We can come out again later. Let’s treat your wounds first.”

“But if I leave, I won’t remember which flower was pretty,” Youngjae fretted. 

“Then, it wasn’t that pretty in the first place,” Daehyun remarked with a sigh. Left with no choice, he roamed back into the house and retrieved both the scissors and the medicine box. He snipped the rose quickly and it laid in Youngjae’s lap while Daehyun plastered his brother’s cuts.

“You want to give this to one of the girls in Junhong’s hometown, don’t you?” Daehyun said. He pinched his brother’s cheek. “You are leaving me for girls.”

“Just like you did to me in the past,” Youngjae ricocheted with a satisfied expression. Daehyun sent him a look.

“After hearing what you said, I think you’re right, Brother.” Youngjae twirled the red rose after Daehyun shaved off the thorns along the stalk. “It’s not as pretty as I thought it was if I worried I wouldn’t be able to find it again.”

“Still, it is a beautiful rose,” Daehyun mentioned, reaching out to tap the rose lightly. Both brothers sat on the grass under a clouded afternoon sky.

“Would it be better to get something that stands out more?” Youngjae looked around the rose garden before laying his gaze upon the small assortment of roses with varying colours. “Maybe I should get Jessica a white one.”

Daehyun heaved discreetly and thumbed his brother’s cheek. “White ones are still common. You said she was a pretty girl, did you not? She must have received tons of different roses by now.”

Youngjae’s shoulder slumped. He deliberated to himself before excitedly chirping, “Brother, I’ve never seen a blue rose before. It must be quite rare, right? How about I give her that instead?”

“Blue roses don’t exist, Youngjae. They can only be made blue by people,” Daehyun explained.

“Really? Do you know how to make a rose blue?” Youngjae eagerly asked.

“I heard you have to let the rose sit in some dye,” Daehyun provided. “I can get the servants to help you with it. Jongwan would probably know.”

“You’re right. He’s so experienced with flowers, after all.” Youngjae perked up suddenly and looked to the rose bushes, particularly through them.

“Brother, while I was walking with Jongwan, I asked him if it was true I used to hide in the rose bushes.” He puckered his lips and squinted at his brother dubiously. “He said you were the one who taught me to hide inside.”

Daehyun stared at his brother. “He said that?”

“Yes. I tried to get more but Jongwan didn’t want to tell me more,” Youngjae puffed.

Daehyun raised a brow and grinned sheepishly, pondering for a while. “Well, now that I recall… perhaps I did.”

“So, you were the one who gave me all these scars.” Youngjae pouted. “Why’d you tell me to do that?”

“It’s so you wouldn’t get caught by our parents. I was a kid too then; I didn’t want to see my little brother lose at Hide-and-Go-Seek,” Daehyun laughed, apologetically ruffling his younger brother’s hair. “I was foolish. Forgive me?”

Youngjae pursed his lips and chirped, “If you help me practise, then I will.”

“Practise what?”

“Like last Tuesday night.” Youngjae twiddled with the rose and met Daehyun’s eyes after a while.

Daehyun chuckled and leaned forward, pecking Youngjae’s forehead. “I said I would help, did I not?” He helped Youngjae off the floor and took his hand, leading him into the house. 

“You must be really interested in those girls,” he sighed with an amused smile. His younger brother quietly followed him upstairs and Daehyun patted his shoulder. “You’ve got some unfinished homework due today, don’t you? Go do your work before Irene comes.”

Youngjae stared at Daehyun before he frowned, looking down at the floor. “I thought we were going to practise,” he muttered.

“You want to practise now?” Daehyun arched his brows. He melted into a small smile when his brother nodded and approached the boy, leaning down to peck his lips.

“You really want to kiss well, don’t you?” Daehyun lowered his voice teasingly.

“Mm, I don’t want to be a laughing stock.” Youngjae fidgeted and expectantly gazed up at Daehyun, making his older brother chuckle.

“Promise me you’ll finish your homework before Irene arrives.”

Youngjae puffed his cheeks. He sullenly replied, “Fine.”

“Good boy,” Daehyun hummed, thumbing his brother’s cheek. He leaned down and gently linked their lips, kissing slow and sensual. Youngjae placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders and tried to keep up, clutching at Daehyun’s attire.

Daehyun pulled away after a long while when he felt Youngjae’s struggle to breathe. The aftertaste of his brother lingered and scribbled heat underneath Daehyun’s skin. Youngjae’s lips were soft, which made kissing him quite enjoyable.

“You’re getting better,” Daehyun complimented to please his brother. As expected, Youngjae beamed, accomplishment dancing in his irises.

“Yay!” He cutely cheered. He wore a cherry blush on his chubby cheeks, eyes still clouded and dazed. On impulse, Daehyun pecked Youngjae’s lips and stroked his brother’s hair back.

“Now, go do your homework.”

Youngjae nodded obediently and gave Daehyun a quick hug, walking towards the door. Daehyun paced back to his desk and mentioned, “Oh, please call Jongwan in for me, will you?”

“Sure, brother,” Youngjae chirped, skipping away. Daehyun smiled softly and laid back into his chair. He prodded at his lower lip and exhaled thinly at the fresh memory of kissing his brother. He felt rather aroused, a humiliating consequence of perhaps not having been attached in the past few years.

His uncle had been pressing him to look for some girls as well in order to carry on the family line, but truthfully, the only future Daehyun desired was one with his brother. He sought to take care of his younger brother; it had become somewhat of a life’s purpose at this point after years of them being left alone.

Moreover, there was a selfish thought in his mind as an overprotective brother that did not want Youngjae to get married and move out. He worried his brother would not be able to manage well on his own and his future wife may be a burden, which was just one of the minor concerns Daehyun had. Youngjae was innocent and though he was well-read, he did not have much experience with people.

If Daehyun were to be honest, the thought of Youngjae intimate with a girl did not sit well with him. Where this distaste rooted from was likely his overprotectiveness. It was nonetheless irrational, since Daehyun would obviously have to let go of Youngjae to live his own life. 

Daehyun paused in his musings when he heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called sternly.

Jongwan nudged open the door with his head lowered, as though he was already aware of why he had been summoned. Daehyun’s expression hardened as he regarded their family’s butler.

“I heard you spoke to Youngjae.”

Jongwan bowed further, eyes not meeting Daehyun’s strict countenance. “I am very sorry, sir. I was careless and made a mistake. Please forgive me.”

Daehyun heaved, interweaving his fingers together. He spared not another glance at the butler and sieved through his letters. “Be more careful next time.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

\--

 

With age, every person's childhood memories gradually fade. Be it the chronic mischief or the seemingly disastrous tribulations, time makes each memory fragment harder to remember, where the redundant details are slowly omitted. The muddy shoelaces on the way home from school disintegrate into nothingness along with the little tear in the armchair. Some forget slowly while others forget like a combustion, leaving an odd void behind that one can never put his finger on.

When Daehyun was eight, his younger brother Youngjae was three years old. Often, they would have a game of hide and seek where Youngjae would hide while their parents sought. However, wherever Youngjae hid, his parents would find the boy. The closet did not work, nor did the attic or under the bed.

Daehyun loathed seeing his little brother lose in his games with their parents. Youngjae would end up wailing loudly, making Daehyun even more upset. Trying to be a good older brother, Daehyun noted down many possible hiding spots in the house for Youngjae. Behind the kitchen door. Below the desk. Between the shelves. Still, none of them could hide Youngjae from their parents.

There was only one place that their parents couldn’t reach, Daehyun soon realised. Where the roses blossomed, thorns grew plentifully as well. Upon seeing his mother prick her thumb on a rose thorn, Daehyun came up with the idea of hiding in the rose bushes. He had Jongwan trim some stems within a bush to make a hole just enough for Youngjae to crawl in.

And so, whenever the game commenced, Daehyun would pull Youngjae into the garden and nudge his brother into the bushes. If there was some time, he could grab a blanket for Youngjae and wrap his brother in it before his parents started searching. Otherwise, three-year-old Youngjae would cry as he crawled in with one arm covering his eyes from the thorns. 

For young, cherub Daehyun, the scratches were nothing compared to the triumph of winning. He would rather die than see his little brother lose.

 

\--

 

Darkness plagued the walls of the Jung’s household, nightfall creeping by the windows. The footsteps made their way down the hallway with loud creaks. Accompanying the screeching floorboards was heavy breathing, slipping through tightly gritted teeth.

Youngjae ran with his teeth sunk into his lower lip, desperately trying not to make a sound. His heart pounded with utter fear and he felt his knees giving away from his trembling. Youngjae escaped into the rose garden and muffled a squeak when he heard the footsteps get louder. Barrelling through the labyrinth, he found the corner spot after one turn. Youngjae covered his face and whimpered as he crawls in, thorns pricking his skin.

The footsteps grew closer. Youngjae buried his face into his hand and shivered in fright, praying for the murderer to leave. Suddenly, the footsteps halted. Youngjae heard no more of that leather bristling the grass.

Then, he felt a gentle touch on his arm. Someone draped a blanket over his head and patted it down, shrouding Youngjae from the thorns. That familiar warmth carefully carried Youngjae out and cradled him tight. Blood dampened the blanket but Youngjae did not mind, leaning into the figure.

Youngjae woke up with a start, his dream fading into nothing but moonlight through the window. He wheezed frantically and clutched at his chest as he looked around for his brother. Youngjae momentarily thought of going to his brother but reminded himself that he was now an adult—he could not depend on his older brother forever.

Inhaling deeply, Youngjae coordinated his breathing as some sombreness befell him. Yes, he was of age now. He could not keep clinging to his brother for something as insignificant as a nightmare. What would the girls think of him?

Youngjae glanced over to the windows and laid his eyes upon the rose sitting in a vase of blue dye. The curtains fluttered against the large windows overlooking the rose garden and a glimpse of the plain town. He let out a small sigh.

Youngjae always lamented the fact that he had blue blood. If he was not of nobility, perhaps his parents would not have been the target of such irrational malice. Maybe their family would have lived together in happiness.

Getting up from the bed, Youngjae head to the bathroom to wash his face. He them went to the kitchen for a small snack and bumped into Jongwan, the butler having been boiling water.

“Jongwan,” Youngjae greeted with a warm smile. 

The butler bowed to the boy. “Sir, may I be of any assistance?”

“No worries. I can get the biscuits myself.” He reached into the jar and popped one into his mouth, soothed by his butler’s presence. Despite having heard the swarms of rumours surrounding their butler’s role in the murders, Youngjae trusted the man easily as Daehyun trusted him. Youngjae had faith in all of his older brother’s judgements.

“I, um, overheard your conversation with Brother,” Youngjae mentioned gingerly. He had stayed behind to listen in after calling Jongwan, having predicted that Daehyun would reprimand Jongwan for bringing up a snippet of their past.

“I’m very sorry he chided you for something so minor.”

“Do not be sorry, sir. Master Jung meant well,” Jongwan provided. He cleaned the table top thoroughly while Youngjae nibbled on another biscuit.

“I know, but he was too extreme. He always coddles me like this,” Youngjae grumbled through his crunches. He poured a glass of water for himself and sighed wistfully.

“Is it so wrong for me to know about my past?” Youngjae spoke quietly. Jongwan gazed at him as he washed the rag.

At the age of four, Youngjae was not just robbed of his parents but his memory of them in his later years. He could not remember their faces nor recollect much of his childhood before he turned four, possibly due to both age and trauma. Some said it was a blessing Youngjae remembered not the pungent stench of his parents’ blood or the veils over the mirrors. He could not recall his parents lying in satin while relatives wept around him.

Daehyun sought to keep Youngjae that way, devoid of any childhood memories before he turned five. He wanted Youngjae to live blissfully and keep his innocence. Therefore, he lied that their parents had passed on painlessly through a sleeping potion which a doctor gave too much of. All traces of what happened was erased from the house and their relatives cooperated, breathing not a word in front of doe-eyed him. Any need to discuss the incident was done strictly sub rosa. Youngjae only learnt the specifics of the double murder, albeit exaggerated, through a newspaper pinned up in a pawn shop.

“Master Jung loves you a lot, sir,” Jongwan returned, a rare smile donning his weary cheeks. “He would do anything to protect you.”

“I know,” Youngjae said, repressing a meek smile of his own. He wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “In any case, I’m still very sorry for what happened, Jongwan.” He looked to the clock and finished, “I will be heading to bed now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

 

\--

 

Per routine, Daehyun slipped out of his room at an hour past midnight to check on Youngjae. He had this habit out of precaution, a tedious one, if he might add. They used to share the same room till their uncle planted the idea of Youngjae having his own room.

Daehyun carefully opened the door and gazedat his brother from the doorway. A tender smile curled into his lips and he approached, kneeling beside his brother. He brushed his hair and gently kissed his lips.

Youngjae stirred, fluttering open his eyes. He blearily focused on Daehyun as the older boy pulled away, chuckling slightly. In a surprising move, Youngjae craned his neck up and kissed his brother. His hands crept up onto Daehyun’s shoulders and he clumsily tried to deepen the kiss.

Daehyun reciprocated after a moment, his ministrations slow and loving. His tongue swiped out at Youngjae’s swollen lips and he angled his head to better meet Youngjae’s lips.

They parted in a whir of breaths, Youngjae’s cheeks blossoming a rose pink as his grip slipped from his brother’s shirt. It was possibly the most beautiful sight Daehyun had ever set his eyes on in his twenty-three years of life. He felt his throat tighten while heat throbbed steadily through his body.

Daehyun restrained an insatiable urge to kiss his brother again and shelved the questionable thought for later. He steadied his inhales and patted his brother’s head.

“You like kissing very much, don’t you?” He clicked his tongue, amused. Youngjae nodded after a bashful grin.

Daehyun pecked his temple. “You’re going to kiss the girls in Junhong’s town well,” he hummed. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

“I had a nightmare, so I went down to get some snacks.” He scooted over and made some space for Daehyun to sit, bundling up in the sheets. Daehyun acquiescently settled down.

“What did you dream of?” Daehyun lowered his voice as he fondled Youngjae’s cheek.

“I dreamt of… the person who took away our parents. He was coming after me,” Youngjae whispered, face squished against the pillow. He reached out and held his brother’s hand tightly. “But then, you saved me, Brother.”

Daehyun’s lips quirked and his thumb grazed his brother’s cheekbone. “I’m glad you know that I would, even in your dreams.”

“Did something happen lately?” He asked. “You have been thinking of this an awful lot.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Youngjae rolled over and pursed his lips. “I think it’s because I’ve been staying at Junhong’s household often, Brother. At night, I start to miss you and I become scared.”

“I am afraid too whenever you leave,” Daehyun sighed. “I always wind up sleepless on those nights. I worry for your safety, if you ate well, whether you’ve slept.”

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae mumbled. He contemplated for a while before piping up, “Brother, what if you came with me next time? We could go explore town and talk to girls together.”

“That’s all that ever crosses your mind nowadays,” Daehyun scoffed. He deliberated momentarily and melted into an irrepressible smile. “Okay. We shall go together.” He had wanted to since the start of this arrangement but their uncle insisted Daehyun give Youngjae some sovereign freedom.

Sunshine brimmed from Youngjae’s mien and he nodded eagerly. “It’d be so much fun with you around, brother,” Youngjae bubbled. “I can’t wait to tell the girls about you.”

“I’m not the most interesting person, though,” Daehyun laughed. “I don’t think they would be too excited to meet me.”

Youngjae simpered. “You are my brother. To me, you are the most important person in the world.”

“You are being kind so I will not ruin your time with those girls, am I not wrong?” Daehyun jested, earning an indignant whine from Youngjae. He placated the pouting boy with a pull on the cheek.

“Sleep.” Daehyun attempted to rise but Youngjae hastily grasped his brother’s wrist.

“Sleep with me, brother,” Youngjae said, doe eyes waiting for his brother’s reply. Predictably, Daehyun agreed and got under the sheets with his little brother.

“With how often you ask me to sleep with you, we might as well share a room again.” Daehyun made himself comfortable, his nose nearly touching his brother’s nose.

“I was thinking,” Youngjae remarked mirthfully, “that we could live together in the same house after we both get married.”

“Two families in one house? That’ll be quite a squeeze,” Daehyun returned.

“Well, then, I’ll build a house next to yours. You’re taking this house since you’re the oldest, so I’ll live right next to you.” Youngjae’s whisper tickled Daehyun lips, both brothers staring into one another’s eyes.

Daehyun pressed their foreheads together, cupping Youngjae’s cheek. “That would be nice. We can stay together like a family still.”

“Mm.” Youngjae nestled against Daehyun’s hand and queried, “You scolded Jongwan in the afternoon, didn’t you, brother?”

Daehyun frowned. “No. I just had a word with him.”

“Your voice didn’t sound that way.” Youngjae blew up one cheek and scrutinised Daehyun. His brother promptly wore a deer-in-headlights look. “It wasn’t his fault,” Youngjae stated. “I was the one who asked.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Daehyun said. Light dripped in from the flittering curtains and doused Youngjae’s back. 

“Why do you want keep the past from me?” Youngjae breathed. “I already know most of it.”

Daehyun release a lengthy breath and twirled an arm around his brother’s waist. “I want you to live happily, not in fear. Even now, when you only know what the newspapers said, you are already having nightmares over it.” He pulled his brother closer. “I want to protect you.”

“And who will protect you?” Youngjae asked softly. 

“I have Jongwan.” Daehyun offered a smile. “He protected me since then until now.”

Youngjae bit on the insides of his cheeks and hesitantly questioned, “Brother, you trust him with all your heart?”

“I do. I know he did not do it.” Daehyun caressed Youngjae’s face and remarked, “Let’s not talk about this. It happened such a long time ago. We should try our best to forget and live happily. Mother and Father would have wanted that.”

Youngjae nodded obediently. “Okay.”

Daehyun hummed in contentment and gazed softly at his brother. He could not resist edging a little closer, kissing his younger brother gently. It must had been the fogginess of his memories that made him feel the kisses with his Youngjae felt better than with his first and only fling.

Daehyun simmered into the fine whimpers his brother emitted, twirling the reasoning of ‘practise’ between his nipping lips. Youngjae was indeed a beauty; his future spouse would be fortunate to rouse every morning to a face like his. If he could even make his brother’s heart flutter, he would have dozens of girls swooning. 

It seemed inappropriate the way Daehyun was reacting, but there was nothing wrong in admitting his brother was a fine gentleman. Besides, they were both men. This was only platonic playfulness between two boys.

In the heat of the fervour, Daehyun rolled over and kissed his brother into the bed. Youngjae’s hands grasped his brother’s shoulders tight, pulling in a fashion one could almost call yearning. Their kiss was languid but deep, feverish yet tender.

The pleasure of their touches and a forgotten context clouded their every movement, breaths dancing upon one another’s lips before they promptly sealed their lips again. Youngjae was still a little awkward but he had a fiery vigour, wanting shreds of the dominance which Daehyun amusedly bestowed.

It was when Youngjae whined and bucked his hips that their crotches touched, Daehyun halting sharply. His senses brusquely returned and he stared with large eyes at his younger brother sprawled beneath him, flushed and almost erotic. Youngjae darted his eyes from their problems below back to Daehyun’s face.

Daehyun parted his lips and lost his words temporarily, some anxiousness creeping into his wide-eyed look. Youngjae was the first to shatter the tense silence, dissolving into a teasing yet alluringly flustered smile.

“How did I do?” He asked.

Daehyun blinked several times before sobering up. He cleared his throat and commented, “You’re getting better.”

A toothy grin graced Youngjae’s face and Daehyun lay down beside him. Youngjae crawled into his brother’s hold and chirped, “Shall we sleep now?”

“Yes,” Daehyun answered, still in the midst of finding his bearings. “Goodnight, Youngjae.”

Youngjae persisted in his cheeky smile and planted a quick kiss on his brother’s lips. He then peacefully shut his eyes. “Goodnight, Brother.”

 

\--

 

“Brother! The rose is blue,” Youngjae exclaimed from his room, the door left ajar. Hearing the call, Daehyun closed his book and exited his study. Youngjae sat on the edge of his bed while he ogled at the fully blue rose, sunshine draping over his side.

“Wow. Well done,” Daehyun complimented, crouching to get a better look. Blue soaked the once white petals, chewing up every unsullied inch and sparing just miniature glimpses of the tips. It was quite magnificent and held the air of royalty despite it being a meagre plant.

“The red rose I tried the other day didn’t work, but this one did,” Youngjae chirped. “I suppose if there’s red in the petals, the blue won’t show.”

“I see,” Daehyun mused. The happiness adorning his brother’s face was like a beacon, stirring joy in Daehyun’s chest.

“It looks a little gloomy, brother,” Youngjae mentioned, still admiring the now midnight blue flower. He twirled around the rose and Daehyun rubbed his brother’s back.

“Mm, blue isn’t a very bright colour. This shade resembles that of a rainy day,” Daehyun glanced at the papers strewn over the desk. “Are you rewriting the letter to Jessica?”

“Of course. You told me it was clichéd,” Youngjae replied. He sat at his desk while Daehyun hovered over him.

“I don’t know what to write to her,” Youngjae sighed in exasperation. “I have spent the whole morning thinking of it.”

Daehyun pursed his lips and thought for a long while. He flipped through the book he had been reading just a while ago and stopped at a page.

“What about this?” Daehyun suggested. He read off the page, “ _But he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose._ ”

“That’s beautiful, brother,” Youngjae chimed in awe. “Where did you learn it from?” 

Daehyun held out the book in his hands. “This, which you should have read a week ago. It was your assigned reading, was it not?”

Youngjae peered at the beige paperback and sheepishly mumbled, “I may have skimmed through it.”

“Your grades are telling me that,” Daehyun replied in disapproval. He combed Youngjae’s hair back and delicately kissed his brother on the lips, Youngjae reciprocating with an unhurried pace. Over these two weeks, their kisses had become routine without any prior requests. It was no different from before, Daehyun reasoned. Perhaps their kisses were a little deeper than when they were children but that was because Youngjae wanted some practice.

“Finish up your letter quickly. The concert will start in half an hour,” Daehyun said, roaming over to the shelf. He opened the music box and a dainty tune waltzed into the atmosphere, bits of minor notes leaving some wistfulness behind.

Youngjae twiddled the stalk of rose between his fingers and lamented, “It’s so special, Brother. I feel like we should keep this instead of giving it away.”

“You don’t want to give this to the girl you fancy?” Daehyun amusedly arched a brow. “I thought you liked her quite a bit.”

“Yes, but this rose is one of a kind,” Youngjae reasoned. He gently tapped the flower petals and held out the sole stalk to his brother. “Brother, would you like it?”

“I prefer normal roses,” Daehyun answered, taking the rose and examining it indifferently.

“Why? This rose is so uncommon.”

“Well, it only became that way because it was dyed.” Daehyun handed the rose back and his hand found its usual place on his brother’s head, stroking affectionately. “And the rose looks like it’s bruised.”

“Now that you mention it…” Youngjae trailed off, intently scrutinising the flower.

Daehyun slipped the rose behind Youngjae’s ear and smiled. “But you’re right; it’s still beautiful. If you’d like, we’ll keep this one and Jongwan can make a few more and keep them in the lawn.”

Pleased, Youngjae nodded. He quickly got up before Daehyun left and kissed him on the lips, weaving over to the window. He slid the lonely rose back into the vase and followed his brother out.

 

\--

 

On Friday, baby blue seeped into the fibre of the late morning sky, Youngjae awake and excited. As always, Jongwan checked the paraphernalia to be brought over, swiftly winding around the house. Other servants were just as busy, packing snacks for the long trip and overseeing every necessity to ensure the smooth departure of both Jung brothers. It was not as hectic if only Youngjae left for the next town but the master of the house, Daehyun, was leaving as well. 

Jongwan briefed the assigned servants, having been told to stay behind to take care of the house. Daehyun only trusted Jongwan to take care of Youngjae which was why he had his head butler accompany Youngjae every time he left. Since Daehyun could now be by Youngjae’s side, he instructed the man to keep watch of the house.

While the maids sliced the freshly-made ham sandwiches and the servants wrapped the apricot cookies, Daehyun took a walk through the rose garden. His shoes brushed against the soft grass and he curiously prodded the side of the thorns while he passed. 

Daehyun came to a stop where his parents’ tombstone laid. Though the rose bushes were tall and shrouded most of the iron fence lining the perimeter of the lawn, the iron fence could be seen wholly beside their parents’ grave. Here, the grilled gate laid, the rose bushes clearing right where the hinge stood.

Daehyun looked down at the headstones and exhaled lengthily. He had a few moments of peaceful silence by the graves before Jongwan stepped towards him. 

“Sir,” Jongwan called, bowing when Daehyun turned around. “It is time to leave.”

“Alright.” Daehyun gazed at the graves one last time and joined Jongwan with a minuscule curl of the lips. They paced through the labyrinth while Daehyun submerged into eight feet deep thoughts. 

“It comforts me that my parents have probably grown to be part of the roses,” he hummed. “Especially since they kept Youngjae safe. It is nice, isn’t it?”

Jongwan lowered his head. “It is, sir.”

A breeze lingered within the twist and turns of the large rose garden. They eventually emerged. At the back door of the Jung’s mansion, Youngjae stood with a blue rose in his hand and an endearing, childish simper swept over his perky cheeks.

Daehyun chuckled, warmth settling sweetly in his stomach. Jongwan cracked a minuscule smile as Daehyun strode forward, enveloping his younger brother in an embrace.

“Where were you?” Youngjae asked. He leaned forward, wanting a kiss, but reclined once he remembered Jongwan was present.

“I went for a walk. It’s been a while since I left the house all alone for days.” Daehyun took one long look at the mansion, some wear and tear prominent along the walls.

He then gripped his brother’s hand tightly. “Shall we go?”

Youngjae nodded blithely. With their fingers intertwined, they boarded the carriage while the other servants took another.

It was a rather long trip. While the picturesque scenery unravelled against the flittering veils, Youngjae spoke animatedly of what he did with Junhong on his previous trips.

“And he tripped! Uncle was so mad he ruined his suit,” Youngjae giggled. “He had mud in his hair and it took ages to get it all out.”

“Before the girls arrived?” Daehyun asked with a chuckle.

“Thankfully, yes. It’d be such an embarrassment otherwise.” Youngjae looked to the box containing his gift for Jessica and lifted the cover.

He slanted his head one side. “Hm, this doesn’t look as beautiful as the first one, Brother.”

“Really? They look the same to me.” Daehyun rested a hand on Youngjae’s thigh and kneaded slowly. Youngjae instinctively closed his legs from the sensation, though he did not mind Daehyun’s gesture in any case.

“Perhaps it’s because you watered that one,” Daehyun said. He leaned forward to take a good look at Youngjae’s face.

“Were you having nightmares last night, again?” Daehyun sighed, softly taking in his brother’s features. There was a trace of grey beneath his eyes.

“No, I wasn’t. I couldn’t sleep because I was excited for today,” Youngjae beamed.

Daehyun adjusted Youngjae’s tie and patted his shoulder. “You’re a handsome boy, Youngjae. Even without the rose, I’m sure Jessica would fall in love with your charms.”

“I was excited because you would come with, brother,” Youngjae corrected with a toothy smile. Daehyun could not resist stealing a kiss—of course, only when he was sure the curtain was covering the front window. It would be difficult for them to explain to the coachman that they were just practicing.

“What would you do without me, Youngjae?” Daehyun chuckled.

Youngjae jested mischievously, “A lot of things, Brother. I just like to do them with you.”

“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t change,” Daehyun said as he ruffled Youngjae’s hair.

The two brothers savoured some of the crisp cream pastries as Youngjae continued to avidly share his adventures. Halfway, Daehyun noticed his brother yawning more and more. He coaxed Youngjae to take a nap, the boy’s head resting on his brother’s shoulder. 

Sometime after, Youngjae roused. He sleepily gave a smile as Daehyun chuckled, squeezing his brother’s thigh.

Daehyun stretched his head out and surveyed the surroundings. “We’re almost there.” 

“Oh?” Youngjae yawned and rubbed his eyes. He met Daehyun’s gaze and persisted in his rather coy smile, simply watching without a word.

“What is it?” Daehyun chortled. “Do I have something on my face?”

Youngjae’s hands crept up Daehyun’s shoulder and the boy remarked, “On your lips.” They shared another discreet kiss, Youngjae pulling Daehyun’s lips between his teeth. His body seemed to melt into his brother’s hold like a curve. A bump in the road made them part, Youngjae panting as he grinned.

“Some last-minute practice,” he stated, untwining his arms from Daehyun. 

His older brother laughed. “Well, this will be your last one if things turn out well for you today.”

“We can still kiss even then,” Youngjae insisted. “I need more practice, anyway.” He wore a glistening simper and teased, “And I think you like kissing me, Brother.”

“And why do you think that?” Daehyun furrowed his brows in amusement.

“Because I like kissing you too,” Youngjae said brazenly, mischief dancing in his brown irises. Daehyun merely shook his head in return.

When they arrived, Junhong barrelled towards Youngjae and knocked him to the ground, Daehyun hurriedly prying their cousin off his brother. After making sure the two promised to play nice, Daehyun directed the servants as to where to unpack his and Youngjae’s belongings. Daehyun’s uncle then took him on a house tour.

Junhong’s estate was a little different from how Daehyun remembered it. It was a year ago when he visited. Several furniture had been thrown out, not too unexpected since their uncle splurged where he could and enjoyed boasting his wealth through a refinement of the mansion’s interior. Prestigious artworks furnished the exquisite wallpapers, grand chandeliers hanging in each room. The carpets were embroidered with luscious red and golden motifs, floors and walls polished.

When the tour concluded, Daehyun and his uncle gathered in the living room. Some screams punctured their conversation and they turned to find Junhong and Youngjae chasing one another in the lawn. 

Daehyun’s uncle snorted and shook his head. “You are so different from your brother, Daehyun. Sometimes, I forget you are twenty-three.”

“I guess I’m aging too fast, Uncle,” Daehyun joked.

Smoke billowed from the older man’s cigar, Daehyun’s uncle crossing his legs with a hearty guffaw. “So, you followed your brother all the way here? Didn’t think I was doing a good enough job keeping an eye on the lad?”

“Well, I mean, you didn’t stop Jessica from coming in the afternoon,” Daehyun pointed out jokingly.  “Anyway, he asked me to come along,” he clarified with a chortle. “He said he’d been feeling afraid over being separated from me.”

“With that servant of yours staying overnight with him, even I would feel scared,” Daehyun’s uncle drawled. He raised both his brows in intrigue. “That reminds me, I did not see him. Is he not here?”

“Jongwan’s taking care of the house while we’re away.” Daehyun sipped at his tea. “You know, Uncle, he takes care of Youngjae well. He’s perhaps the only reason why Youngjae would be brave enough to leave home without me.”

“There you go, vouching for him again. I suppose you only say that because he reports to you about what happens here?”

“He tells me as little as he can, since he promised my younger brother he would not tell,” Daehyun filled in with a mischievous grin. 

“I don’t know what is worse. Leaving that butler alone with your household or bringing him with you,” Daehyun’s uncle bemoaned. Some voices outside captured the pair’s attention and Daehyun’s uncle snickered.

“Well, the ladies have arrived. An old man like me has no business in the youth’s affairs. I shall retire to my study.” He rose and angled his chin towards the door. “You should meet the girls, Daehyun. Perhaps you might find one to your liking. You are already of marrying age, after all.”

Daehyun’s uncle vanished into the room. Just moments later, the soft chatter reached Daehyun’s ears, the man standing and readying a polite smile. The two girls entered the living room and both paused in their talking upon seeing Daehyun.

“This is my older brother,” Youngjae piped up enthusiastically.

“Hello. I’m Daehyun.” The twenty-three year old quickly noticed the customary enamoured expression in both girls’ eyes. He also pinpointed which one was the infamous Jessica—she had an attractiveness that stood out with her large eyes and sultry look.

Daehyun paid little attention to the girls’ greetings, instead chiding Youngjae for not wearing his coat while he was outside. The five sat down in the dining hall for a late lunch, Jessica occupying the seat opposite Youngjae while Daehyun sat at the table end. Her interest was barely masked—she peeked at Daehyun every now and then without much coyness as the chefs served platters of delicacies.

“Luna and Jessica attended a piano recital at the Pherson concert hall yesterday,” Junhong helpfully set the ball rolling, chomping up his roasted mutton.

Without much hesitation, Jessica nodded. “We did. Daehyun, do you enjoy piano music?”

“I do. I enjoy playing the piano as well,” Daehyun answered, taking a bite of his steak.

“Ah. I think men who can play the piano are lovely,” Jessica replied with a sprinkle of huskiness to her words.

“Me too,” Luna blurted. 

Daehyun churned out an obligatory smile. He looked over at Youngjae who innocently glowed with a proud smile.

“My brother plays the piano as well,” Daehyun mentioned.

Jessica batted her long lashes at Daehyun and hummed distractedly, “Is that so?”

“Yes, I used to sit in the hall to listen while he practised.” Daehyun met his brother’s eyes. “It’s a shame you don’t play the piano as often now, Youngjae.”

“It’s because you give me too much homework, brother,” Youngjae complained.

“Irene gives you homework, not me,” Daehyun bickered lightheartedly.

“And she listens to you, as the head of the house.” Youngjae jutted out his lower lip and challenged Daehyun cheekily.

“Well, she can’t listen to me if I don’t speak,” Daehyun returned with amusement.

Youngjae knitted his brows together and chortled. “Are you saying it’s your fault or not, brother?”

“Whichever will have you be content.”

“You are the head of the household, Daehyun?” Luna gaped. “But you are so young!”

Daehyun offered a miniscule smile. “My parents passed on some time ago.”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Luna rushed to say, remorse crumpling into her countenance.

“No worries. It’s completely fine to ask.” Daehyun took a swig of his broth and continued eating, not missing the way Jessica’s eyes raked over him. She let out an almost inaudible wheeze that dripped with intrigue and infatuation.

“It must be such a heavy burden for you, Daehyun,” she said softly.

Daehyun neatly sliced open his bun and spread some raspberry jap within. “I had my uncle to help,” he assured.

“But still, to be left alone at such a young age to fill your father’s shoes…” Jessica lowered her utensils and whispered, “You are so brave.”

“Thank you,” Daehyun returned, quirking his lips once more. “If not for my little brother keeping me company, I would have never come so far.”

He paused when he felt a feathery touch upon the back of his hand. Jessica’s fingers gently rested on his skin, her eyes empathetic and riveted.

“I can tell you are a great older brother,” she cajoled. 

Daehyun persisted in his smile. Back in town, maidens frequently whispered to one another while he passed by, Jongwan and some other servants by his side. He sieved out enraptured sighs and claims of love at first sight, some girls with such despairing expressions as they mutely begged for a glance thrown their way. The boys would look on in envy, wanting to befriend the head of the wealthy Jung family.

He understood the mystique he held in the commoner’s eyes for they lived in disjunction. But he did not realise noble women would treat him the same way. Whatever charms Daehyun had, it was clear Jessica was nothing but a filthy whore. She was engaged and from the tales Junhong regaled him with, she was stringing along Youngjae for some quick pre-marital fun.

It was then that Junhong leaned over and mumbled into Youngjae’s ear with a snicker. Youngjae blinked his large eyes and his gaze flickered over to Jessica’s prim fingers drawing away from Daehyun’s hand. He looked at his brother and then to Jessica, fluttering his eyelids.

“So, what are your hobbies, Daehyun?” Jessica asked. She propped up her arms and interlocked her fingers, coyly smiling at the older man.

“I like to read,” Daehyun said. A glance warned him that Youngjae had deciphered the subtle signals Jessica was sending, simply watching the two with his lips sealed.

“That’s boring,” Junhong groaned. He yelped when Luna prodded him with her foot underneath the table.

“I love reading too!” Luna piped up. “Do you have any favourite novels, Daehyun? What have you been reading lately?”

“Well…” Daehyun trailed off. He tilted his head one side to the other, lessening the tension in his back muscles.

“I suppose you’ve read Jane Eyre?” Jessica interrupted.

Daehyun answered, “I have. I enjoyed it very much.”

“As I did.” Jessica released a contented sigh and remarked, “It seems like we have a few things in common, Daehyun. Do you perhaps enjoy poetry as well?”

“Yes. I was reading some of Acton Bell’s the other day,” Daehyun said. He took his time chewing as he discreetly surveyed his younger brother through half-lidded eyes. The surprise in Youngjae’s mien had decomposed into a dash of unhappiness.

“You are so cultured,” Jessica complimented easily. “Most of the young men I’ve met do nothing but play sports. All brute force and nothing more.”

By this point, everyone at the dining table understood that the conversation existed only between Daehyun and Jessica. Luna’s expression teemed on forlornness, wanting a word in without seeming too brash. On the other hand, Junhong had a knowing smirk on his face, wriggling his brows when Daehyun caught his eyes.

“I play sports often, too,” Daehyun clarified. “They’re both enjoyable.”

“Masculine yet refined,” Jessica sang a different tune almost immediately. Daehyun smiled in response and straightened up when he felt a light brush underneath the table. Surprised, he met Jessica’s sensual eyes and instinctively turned to look at his brother.

Youngjae seemed to notice something was wrong for he began leaning his head in an attempt to get a better view. All his initial merriness had dispersed, leaving a growing sullenness in place.

Daehyun sighed inwardly. He knew Youngjae was upset that the girl he liked fancied his brother instead, but social etiquette dictated Daehyun at least gave a reply. He did not particularly want to keep the conversation afloat but he did think it would be a good wake-up call for his brother. Jessica was beautiful, but she was just a harlot ruining the name of nobility.

“Are you attached, Daehyun?” Jessica hummed.

Daehyun shook his head. Jessica continued teasingly, “I suppose you and Youngjae must have a lot of fun by yourselves.”

“We do,” Youngjae spoke, his eyes trained on Jessica. 

“That’s sweet. Can I perhaps visit one day?” Jessica queried, more to Daehyun than Youngjae. 

“Your family is welcomed,” Daehyun said. Before he could continue, Youngjae cut in swiftly.

“You told me last month you were not interested,” he said to Jessica in a hostile tone. 

“I did? Well, because it was a busy time for me then.” Jessica paid no heed to the change in Youngjae’s mood, her focus fixated on Daehyun. “You must be quite lonely, Daehyun. You run the household all by yourself.”

“My brother has me to accompany him,” Youngjae stated, the animosity lining his words.

“Oh Youngjae, you know what I mean,” Jessica barely started laughing when Youngjae interjected curtly.

“I don’t. Will you please enlighten me?”

Daehyun stared at Youngjae, startled by his brother’s behaviour. Youngjae was indeed someone who was a little petty at times, an extension of his more childlike nature and the years he spent isolated from others. However, it was rare for him to show his anger in public. He lacked social experience so he often went along with others innocently. 

“I mean that your brother is not married,” Jessica said after a moment, a vague frown donning her prim face. “As with any household, it is only complete when a man and his wife can take care of it together.”

Youngjae thinned his lips. Junhong sensed the awkward atmosphere and plopped an oyster into Youngjae’s plate. “Your food is getting cold,” he commented, poking Youngjae’s wrist.

“Where were we?” Jessica contemplated. “Ah, yes, hobbies. I wonder if perhaps there is any other interests we have in common.”

Her every gesture was prim and proper, as though she was a cut-out from the etiquette books for ladies. Jessica was pretty—there was no doubt that beyond Youngjae, it would not be past her to have another fling.

Daehyun easily caught the sprinkled hint she left. “Would you care to share about your hobbies, Jessica? Everyone?” He remarked politely.

“Me?” Jessica repressed a bashful smile. “Well, I enjoy writing. The marvels on my shelves often inspire me. I write pieces, hoping I can one day publish them and inspire others in the same manner.”

“That’s very impressive, Jessica. I hope too you will be able to achieve your dreams,” Daehyun courteously answered.

“Thank you, Daehyun,” Jessica lilted. “Your words… They truly motivate me. It’s been only a while since I met you but I already feel as though you understand me.”

“Avid readers tend to feel at home with one another,” Daehyun surmised. In his periphery, he could see his brother with his head lowered, boring his eyes through his plate.

“I think it’s more than just being dedicated readers,” Jessica purred flirtatiously.

Suddenly, she gasped. “Daehyun!” She took Daehyun’s hand and traced the faded scar between his knuckles. “What on earth happened? This looks like it came from a deep wound.”

“I cut myself by accident when I was young,” Daehyun provided as he pulled his arm away.

It was then that Youngjae shifted back his chair. He threw a glare at Daehyun and then to Jessica,

Youngjae spoke through gritted teeth, “Excuse me. I need to use the washroom.” He promptly spun on his heels and walked off.

“Youngjae,” Daehyun called, worriedly getting out of his seat. Jessica grasped his wrist and Daehyun tugged his arm out of her grip, casting her a simple “excuse me”. As he briskly paced down the hall, he chided himself for taking things too far. Of course, he had the option of being curt with Jessica, but he thought it best to show first-hand to his brother that the girl he fancied was utterly below him.

“Youngjae!” The boy was far ahead, almost running at this point. Daehyun picked up his pace.

In the midst of his stride, Junhong’s mother came out of her room, her eyes lighting up upon seeing Daehyun.

“Daehyun,” she rasped mirthfully, clearing her throat. “Ah, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you and Youngjae arrived. I told my husband to wake me but I suppose he wanted me to get a good rest.”

“Aunt,” Daehyun greeted, eyes darting from Youngjae’s distancing silhouette. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Likewise. How have you been?” She coughed. Junhong’s mother swayed and Daehyun quickly steadied her. Her skin was hot, telling of a fever at its peak.

“Aunt, perhaps you should retreat to your room. You seem very ill,” Daehyun urged. He sighed quietly when Youngjae vanished.

“No, no. I need some fresh air. I’ve been cooped inside for too long,” she wheezed. “I would like to get a book from the library as well.”

“…Let me accompany you there,” Daehyun said, looking down the hallway one last time before placing an arm around his sickly aunt’s waist.

 

\--

 

Youngjae stormed out into courtyard, standing with his back facing the door and his jaw still clenched. He waited for his brother to catch up to him but after a while of silence, he turned back and realised Daehyun wasn’t chasing him anymore.

Youngjae stared dumbly at the open door and the adjacent, empty corridor for a long moment. Eventually, the surprise bled out into hurt and resentment, the boy balling his hands into fists. His brother had abandoned him for a girl.

“Fine. Stay with her if you like her so much,” Youngjae snapped. Tears instinctively welled up in his eyes but he bit them back resolutely, breathing deeply to calm himself. 

Youngjae had never hated someone so much. The way they spoke as if they were in their own world, how he smiled at her so kindly, when she gently touched his hand…

Gall stirred within Youngjae’s stomach as his brooding tears bloomed from irascibility and misery. As Youngjae had sat there just now watching his brother and Jessica flirt with one another, he wanted to stomp over and shove the two far apart. He felt so distant from his brother; he felt so small in front of the girl he liked.

Youngjae absolutely hated Jessica. 

Strangely, he loathed her not because she led him on. He hated her because she flirted with his brother so shamefully. She had no right to touch Daehyun yet she did. It was so vexing to watch her make googly eyes at his brother and flirt with him. Who did she think she was?

Youngjae’s fingernails dug into his palm. Jessica was a beautiful girl who was just two years younger than Daehyun. She was well-read and shared the same interests as Daehyun did. It would not be a surprise if Daehyun would be attracted to her. After all, there were no other noble girls in their hometown. It was also long past the time for Daehyun to find a wife.

How could a younger brother compare to a pretty girl?

Youngjae swallowed back the lump in his throat at the thought, wiping furiously at his damp eyes. Just then, he heard a voice.

“Youngjae!” Junhong’s father called. Youngjae swivelled his head to find his uncle in the far corner of the courtyard taking a drag. He was sitting underneath the warm sunshine with his feet propped up on the outdoor table, cigarette lazily drooping from his hand.

The boy hastily dashed away any traces of tears and paced up to Junhong’s father. The man looked around and reluctantly crushed the last of his cigarette into the ash tray before Youngjae came up to him.

“What happened, boy? I saw you rush out. You look quite mad, too.” The man reclined into his chair, curiously regarding his nephew. “I would have beckoned you over earlier but your brother doesn’t let me smoke around you.”

“It’s nothing, Uncle,” Youngjae mumbled. He took a seat in one of the patio chairs.

“It certainly isn’t nothing by the looks of it. It’s Jessica, am I right?” Junhong’s father teased. “Did she turn you down?”

“No,” Youngjae grunted. The stench of tobacco gnawed at his nose uncomfortably.

“Then, did Jessica take too much of a liking to your brother?” The older man guessed. He exuded a hearty guffaw when Youngjae momentarily looked at him before drilling his stare into the table.

“It’s difficult being Jung Daehyun’s younger brother, hm? Even though you are quite a looker yourself.” Junhong’s father grinned in amusement. “Next time, court her before introducing her to your brother.”

“That’s not what I’m unhappy about,” Youngjae muttered. 

His uncle cocked a brow. “What are you upset about, then?”

Youngjae twiddled with his fingers and finally confessed, “I… didn’t like her flirting with my brother.” His words were meek as he knew how childish he was being.

His uncle looked at him for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, he erupted in a fit of laughter, yellowing teeth bared for all to see. Youngjae gripped his trousers and fixed his gaze on his knees, sullen embarrassment shading his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, boy,” Junhong’s father managed to offer as he calmed down from his bout of guffaws, grin persisting. “I didn’t pin you to be the type to get angry at the girl you liked—for making eyes at your brother, rather than because she liked another man.”

“What did she do?” The man questioned lightheartedly, bits of laughter still escaping him. “Blow a kiss at your brother?”

Youngjae squirmed in his chair. “She kept talking to Brother… and complimenting him… and she touched his hand twice, too,” he grumbled.

“Ah, how endearing. Both brothers are so alike,” Junhong’s father cajoled. “I always thought this possessiveness only ran in Daehyun’s blood.”

“Brother’s protective of me because of what happened to Mother and Father,” Youngjae murmured.

“Even before that happened, your older brother already hated anyone coming near you,” his uncle chortled. “He refused to let me hold you when you were a child. He wouldn’t even allow your mother and father to touch you.”

“Really, Uncle?” Youngjae leaned forward in intrigue. 

“He stuck to your side like a fly to a light,” Junhong’s father regaled nostalgically. “That boy wanted you all to himself.”

“Your father said it was why you were always so blue all over,” he reminisced wistfully. “What a problem child Daehyun was. Now, he’s all grown-up.”

“I got hurt because of Brother?” Youngjae echoed with wide eyes.

Junhong’s father grimaced. “Well, yes. A boy his age then wouldn’t understand how to care for a toddler and your parents didn’t want to separate you two. He must have dragged you into some rough games.”

“Then again, your brother didn’t know how to take care of himself either, seeing how many bruises he used to have,” he chuckled.

Youngjae rolled up his sleeve and examine his pale arm, free from blemishes after years of healing. He smiled in amusement until he remembered the current situation at hand, his dejection promptly sinking in. 

Youngjae’s lips pulled into a line and he grumbled, “Now, he’s more interested in girls than me.”

“You can’t expect your brother to always put you first, Youngjae,” The much older man reasoned. He leaned over and patted the boy’s shoulder. “Your brother spent his life taking care of you. He has his own wants and desires, too.”

“That’s not what I meant, Uncle,” Youngjae protested. “I want Brother to be happy. It’s just…”

Youngjae bit his tongue and stared down at his curled fingers. He wanted Daehyun to be happy; he truly did.

Then, why did he get angry? As a brother, he should be happy for Daehyun that he got to know a pretty girl. Youngjae briefly envisioned Daehyun and a lady dating. His face scrunched up in loathing and he scrubbed the images out of his mind. There was a pricking sense of jealousy even he could sieve out. He did not want anyone to be kissed, pampered and loved by his older brother.

“Yes?” Junhong’s father urged Youngjae to continue. 

The boy shamefully answered, “I… I don’t know.”

His uncle was right. He was a selfish brat. 

All his life, Daehyun tended to his every need. He was the first to rush over whenever Youngjae fell down; he spent his days cooped up in the house, playing silly, mindless games with his younger brother. Whenever Daehyun wanted to leave the house, Youngjae would tear up and guilt Daehyun into staying. It was a miracle Daehyun even managed to have a fling behind Youngjae’s back when he gave all his time to his brother. He probably only had the chance to meet Victoria after Youngjae’ bedtime.

Yet, Daehyun never minded his burden of a little brother. And here Youngjae was, throwing a fit over his brother speaking to a girl.

Indeed, Youngjae was a spoilt child for chaining Daehyun down even at this age. But as the conversation replayed in his mind, Youngjae’s pettiness returned with his jealousy. He did not like the conflicting emotions of remorse and anger.

“Youngjae!”

The boy pursed his lips sourly at his older brother’s voice. He turned his head away to look at the vast expanse of the courtyard, tulips gracing the circumference.

Soon, the footsteps neared, Daehyun jogging over to Youngjae’s side. He was panting as though he ran here.

“Uncle,” he greeted as well. A hand fell on Youngjae’s shoulder and the fuming boy tilted his head away.

“I’m sorry, Youngjae,” Daehyun immediately said. “Aunt needed some help getting to the library so I took a while to come.”

“What? She left her room? I already told her to call the servants if she needed anything,” Junhong’s father exclaimed. He rubbed his temple and rose from his chair.

“Aunt just wanted some fresh air, Uncle.”

“Then she should have opened the windows,” their uncle returned. “I’m going to check on her.” He promptly went into the house while muttering under his breath.

Silence staled over the two brothers, only the breeze rustling the nearby oak tree. Daehyun exhaled quietly and winded over so he could get a look at his brother’s face. Youngjae slanted his head slightly the other way, though he did not turn away.

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun sighed. “I should not have spoken to her, knowing you like her. I was trying to be friendly and things got out of hand.”

Youngjae’s gaze wavered. His uncle’s words stung into his back and he hated the way he felt. Daehyun deserved to find someone—but the contempt mauling at Youngjae’s insides refused that notion.

“Forgive me?” Daehyun whispered. Youngjae flickered his eyes over to him and his lip quivered. His brother had no idea why he was mad. Even he himself did not understand. Would Daehyun think of him as selfish and spiteful if he knew the truth?

Youngjae mumbled, “I want to go home.” His words sounded awfully like a croak. There was no more acrimony in his mien, only misery and bewilderment.

The truth was that he did not want any girl to kiss Daehyun, to take care of him, to sleep with him in the same bed—or touch him where even Youngjae could not touch. Youngjae wanted his brother all to himself. This familiar thought first sprouted when Daehyun had told him of his fling, but Youngjae merely ignored it. What did that mean? Was he too possessive?

Daehyun concernedly watched as Youngjae’s eyes clouded with a plethora of bleak confusion. “Do you not want to stay? Jessica is still here. I will be staying in the library for the rest of the day to read.” 

“Youngjae?” Daehyun’s eyes spelled a forlorn remorse when Youngjae continued looking down. He mustered up some enthusiasm and cajoled, “You still haven’t given Jessica the blue rose. I’m sure she’ll love it. Let’s stay a while longer so you can give it to her.”

“I don’t want to,” Youngjae breathed miserably. “I want to go home, please.”

Daehyun stared at his younger brother before sighing softly. “Okay.” He tenderly stroked Youngjae’s cheek. “Let’s go home.”

 

\--

 

The journey home was long and uncomfortable, tension separating the brothers for the first time in over a decade. Perplexed, Junhong and his parents nonetheless sent the siblings off, Youngjae robotically bidding them goodbye before entering the carriage. He did not witness Daehyun greeting farewell to the family while wholly ignoring Jessica and Luna.

On the way back, Daehyun attempted to speak to his brother but Youngjae said he was tired, opting to lay against the side of the carriage as he dozed off. Once they arrived home, Youngjae cooped himself up in his room. 

Daehyun did not bother him for the rest of the evening. He was a little disappointed his brother would give him the cold shoulder over a girl he barely knew. In total, they probably met for at most a week if one took into consideration the measly two days Daehyun allowed Youngjae to visit Junhong.

Still, his brother was young and naïve. The silver lining was that Daehyun obliterated any good feelings Youngjae had towards Jessica before things escalated.

Was a pretty girl so important to Youngjae? To practise kissing with his older brother for her, to make gifts and write poetry to her…

Daehyun released a lengthy sigh. He leaned back into his chair and watched as Jongwan brought up dinner to his little brother’s room.

Of course. Boys will be boys—foolish for love. Daehyun was just a brother, in the end.

Night dawned between Daehyun’s restless fingers, the man flittering through the pages of his novels. He checked the time ever so often and bargained with himself how long Youngjae should be left alone to cool down.

Eventually, Daehyun closed his book and rose from his armchair. It was ten o’clock by this time and Youngjae had not left his room even once. Daehyun had Jongwan bring in some refreshments every now and then to check on Youngjae, ensuring he did not do something extreme.

_All this trouble for a whore_ , Daehyun mused as he paced to Youngjae’s room. He hesitated momentarily before knocking the door, waiting a few seconds. Silence greeted Daehyun in return and he opened Youngjae’s door. Youngjae was asleep, burrowed in his blankets with his small head peeking out from underneath. Daehyun bit back a sigh and walked over, crouching by Youngjae’s side.

Observing the crinkles around Youngjae’s eyes, Daehyun knew that Youngjae was not sleeping. It was easy to tell after years of taking care of the boy. After all, he was the one who cradled his brother to sleep every night. Nevertheless, he let Youngjae assume his façade under the creeping moonlight, watching the rise and fall of Youngjae’s chest.

Daehyun placed his thumb on Youngjae’s cheek, noting the slight movement Youngjae made. He wiped away the obscured tear streaks down his brother’s cheeks. He had felt guilty when he saw how mad his brother was, but to see him so down hurt Daehyun tremendously.

“I’m sorry, Youngjae,” Daehyun breathed, abandoning his initial thought to give Youngjae his space. “I really am. I shouldn’t have spoken to Jessica when I knew you fancied her.” He brushed back Youngjae’s hair while the younger boy persistently kept his eyes closed.

“Can we go back to the way we were, Youngjae? I hate to see you sad,” Daehyun whispered. “I’ll let you stay longer the next time you visit Junhong. Would that cheer you up? You will be able to see Jessica for a longer time.”

A moment of stillness toiled in the room. Daehyun’s shoulders fell and just as he thought all hope was lost for the night, Youngjae gingerly fluttered open his eyes. He gazed up at Daehyun and averted his eyes, sniffling.

“I’m very sorry. I did not mean to hurt you,” Daehyun said softly. “How about this? Tomorrow, you can go on your own to Uncle’s home and stay as long as you like.” He offered an earnest smile and continued, “It’d be a shame if you don’t give away your rose.”

Youngjae batted his lashes slowly and let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t want to,” he mumbled.

“Well, we can shop for other gifts,” Daehyun suggested. 

Youngjae adamantly shook his head. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to give her anything.” He curled up to hide his face a little.

Daehyun exhaled and held Youngjae’s shoulder loosely with one hand. “Are you still angry, Youngjae?”

It took a while for Youngjae to nod just the slightest. Daehyun combed through Youngjae’s hair and paused, thinking of what to say.

“I will go, then,” he ultimately decided. “Call Jongwan if you need anything, okay? Have a good night’s sleep.”

Daehyun pulled away his fingers and turned to leave, but Youngjae grasped onto his wrist. Daehyun swivelled around in surprise and stared down at his younger brother. Youngjae’s expression held a soft dolefulness, reminiscent of nights he dreamt of footsteps down the hallway and rotting roses.

“I’m not angry with you,” Youngjae murmured. Daehyun knelt down once again and nudged Youngjae into his embrace, stroking the back of Youngjae’s head.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” Daehyun sighed in relief. “I was worried you would hate me.”

“I would never hate you, Brother,” Youngjae said quietly. He snivelled and began blubbering, “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I was embarrassing, wasn’t I? I forced you to go home when we had just reached.”

“Don’t fret over that. I wanted to leave as well.” Daehyun nuzzled their noses and chuckled, “And it’s perfectly understandable you got angry. It’s every man’s instincts to be possessive of his lady.”

“I… I wasn’t angry because of that,” Youngjae’s voice shrivelled.

Daehyun nodded empathetically. “I would have been disappointed if a woman I liked treated me that way. There will be inevitably other times in the future where you will meet greedy women. You simply have to learn to see through their charms,” he advised.

Youngjae shook his head insistently and strained, “That wasn’t what I was upset about, either.” He tugged up the blankets and shrouded a portion of his face beneath.

Daehyun’s brows creased as he ruminated. “What were you angry about, then?” He questioned kindly. “Tell me and I will try to fix things.”

Youngjae tussled. “No. You’ll think I’m strange,” his words bordered on a sob. “I don’t want to be selfish.”

“Youngjae,” Daehyun spoke placatingly, easing Youngjae’s grip over the blanket. “I’m your brother. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s because you’re my brother that it’s strange!” Youngjae lowered down the quilt, revealing a small pool of tears clinging to his lashes.

“Why?” Daehyun asked, bewildered. He pulled down the blanket fully and wiped away Youngjae’s tears. “I used to change your diapers for you, Youngjae. I will never think of you as strange,” he chuckled. 

Youngjae blinked a few times before looking down. He parted his lips and croaked only after a while. “I don’t like her flirting with you.”

Daehyun slanted his head, wanting to say something when Youngjae continued. “I don’t want you to kiss or touch her… or any other girl,” he confessed. 

Daehyun widened his eyes. He processed what his younger brother said, the boy looking terribly miserable as though he had committed a crime.

Soon, a slow laugh escaped Daehyun’s lips. Amusement coloured his face with incandescence and he leaned down, pressing their foreheads together.

“This is why you were upset? You didn’t like her talking to me?” He heaved, pinching Youngjae’s face. “You really are a child.” He brimmed with a smile as he affectionately rubbed his brother’s cheek.

“No, you don’t understand,” Youngjae raised his voice in frustration, sitting up. “I don’t want you to get married and leave me.”

“I won’t leave you, Youngjae,” Daehyun chuckled. “We agreed to live beside one another when we get married, didn’t we?” He thumbed away the lingering tears and sighed, “You are adorable.”

Exasperated, Youngjae nudged away Daehyun’s hand and bit his lip. He swallowed thickly and took in a deep breath. 

“I want to be the only one who you kiss,” Youngjae paused, fisting his trousers. Daehyun stared up at him as Youngjae’s voice grew more fraught, words spilling.

“Kissing, hugging, touching… I… want to be the only one who gets to do those things with you,” Youngjae sniffled and bore his gaze into the bedsheets. “I don’t want it to be anyone else. I- I don’t want you to love a girl and get married… and make love to her…”

“If it’s not me…” Youngjae stopped abruptly and whimpered. He put an arm over his eyes and sobbed, shoulders rising and falling sharply.

Astonished, Daehyun gazed at his crying brother wordlessly, moonlight falling over Youngjae and accentuating his silhouette against the covers. It almost seemed like fourteen years ago where four-year-old Youngjae would cry if he couldn’t find his older brother. His fingers would cling tightly to his brother’s sleeve and he would look as if his entire world shattered into pieces when Daehyun left his side. The way he blubbered his words and his nose ran always made Daehyun chuckle.

Reaching out, Daehyun cupped Youngjae’s face and soothed him with tender touches. He rose and hunched over, wrapping his arms around his brother. Youngjae naturally buried his face into Daehyun’s neck as he wept.

“Y-You must think I’m a monster,” Youngjae wailed. “That I’m so selfish, and so twisted.”

“I don’t,” Daehyun breathed, holding his brother tightly. His mind was preoccupied only with his one priority—consoling his brother. “I would never think that way of you, Youngjae.”

“No, you will,” Youngjae cried. “Because I’m a boy and you’re my brother.”

“…And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Daehyun surmised, leaning back to give his brother a comforting smile. “You’re not strange for thinking that way, Youngjae. I wasn’t happy that you were putting in so much effort into a girl, too. I simply didn’t tell you.”

“Really?” Youngjae wheezed, hiccupping as his tears trickled down his cheeks.

“Yes. I was jealous too,” Daehyun assured. Whirs of the previous few months bled into Daehyun’s thoughts, memories of their deep kisses scrawling in new notions Daehyun would never have entertained before this moment. Sure, he had inappropriate thoughts about his brother in the heat of the moment where the adrenaline overwhelmed his judgement and comprehension. He liked to kiss his brother and it sometimes left him needy as a biological response. But never did his yearnings escalate to such explicitness. He knew well this was against all social and moral norms, but if his brother felt that way, then there was no meaning to its wrongfulness.

“But… do you feel the same way as I do?” Youngjae asked carefully. His eyes ensconced wariness as though looking at Daehyun was the same as looking at his reflection.

Daehyun fluttered his eyelashes and his hand slid to Youngjae’s shoulder, squeezing firmly. “Yes,” he said without any hesitance.

Youngjae immediately sunk into relief, some intrigue dotting his precious expression. “You… also liked our kisses?” He questioned sotto voce.

Daehyun nodded. “I did. Even if you were a little clumsy,” he joked, inciting a pout from his younger brother.

Youngjae inhaled deeply and took some time to register Daehyun’s revelation. His eyes were swollen from crying and his nose bloomed with red. “Does that make us strange?”

“It doesn’t,” Daehyun soothed. “Why is it strange for us to love one another that way?”

“Because we’re boys, and we’re brothers. That’s wrong, right?” Youngjae hung his head low.

Daehyun deliberated for a while and gently knelt down, intertwining his fingers with Youngjae’s small, short ones. “Why is it wrong?”

“It just is. Boys shouldn’t like boys, like brothers shouldn’t like each other,” Youngjae remarked.

“You have to give a reason, right?” Daehyun chuckled. “Stealing isn’t wrong because it just is. It’s wrong because we are taking things from others that don’t belong to us.” He patted down Youngjae’s hair and hummed, “It seems there’s no reason why it’s wrong. We love each other, and that is what matters.”

“I suppose,” Youngjae replied. He seemed very enlightened, as though an epiphany had dawned upon him.

“Are you feeling better now?” Daehyun rubbed circles placatingly into Youngjae’s palm. Youngjae nodded, churning out a tiny yet heartfelt smile. Daehyun himself simmered into a smile. No matter what he had to do, it would always be worth it if his little brother was happy. Youngjae only wanted Daehyun, and Youngjae only mattered to Daehyun as well.

“That’s good. Now, go to bed. It’s been a long day.” Daehyun stood up and pecked his brother on the cheek. His brother swiftly grasped on to a few of his fingers.

“Please sleep with me. I don’t want to be alone,” Youngjae murmured.

“Of course,” Daehyun lulled dotingly. He slipped under the covers and his brother automatically snuggled into his chest, staying close.

“I’m sorry for all the fuss I made. If I had known you felt the same way, I would not have blown up so embarrassingly,” Youngjae muffled. Calmness steadied his voice now and his ever-present lilt returned. “Thank you. You always make things better, Brother.”

“That’s what older brothers are for,” Daehyun hummed. “We dote on our little brothers, protect them and keep them happy.” He kissed Youngjae’s temple and uttered, “We’ll always be there.”

Youngjae simpered cutely, his eyes forming the shape of crescents. “You know, Uncle told me you used to follow me wherever I went. You were so overprotective that even our parents could not come between us, as you would not let them.”

“Not true,” Daehyun chuckled. “There were many times they did. But I tried my best.” He embraced Youngjae and held the boy to his chest, sighing. “I really did.”

“Because of you, I got all the bruises you told me about, didn’t I?” Youngjae narrowed his eyes jokingly and halfheartedly knocked his fist into Daehyun’s chest. “You always told me it was me who did all that to myself, but now I know.”

Daehyun shut his eyes, his hand periodically running down his brother’s back. “Well, maybe. I can’t remember much since it’s been so long ago,” he heaved. “I’m sorry.”

Youngjae shifted in his hold and Daehyun felt a pair of lips against his. He opened his eyes to find Youngjae grinning cheekily, an apple blush tinting his tear-stained cheeks.

“I forgive you,” Youngjae rasped. He burrowed back into Daehyun’s hold, his haven of eighteen years, and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Brother.”

Daehyun smiled. “Goodnight, Youngjae.”

 

\--

 

“Do you have all the books on the reading list?” Daehyun ducked his head into the library, his brother rummaging through the shelves. He joined his brother’s side and helped the boy carry the books he had slotted out. “I told you to get the servants to help you.”

“It’s fine, Brother. They’re not heavy. I have all of them but two.” Before Youngjae descended the stool, Daehyun nimbly held his waist as a precaution and guided him down. Youngjae kissed his cheek as thanks and settled down on the sofa with his brother, Daehyun browsing through the books and matching them to the titles on the list.

Youngjae leaned closer to his brother and prodded the list, saying, “These two are the ones I do not have.” His breath tickled Daehyun’s cheek, the older brother not minding the proximity at all.

“Hm, they don’t ring a bell.” Daehyun examined the titles and nodded. “I will have one of the servants purchase it. I’m not sure if the bookstore here will have them, though.”

“We could write a letter to Uncle and have him get one from his town’s bookstore,” Youngjae suggested while bouncing on his heels. “That shop is gigantic.”

“Knowing how huge Uncle’s library is, he probably owns a copy himself,” Daehyun remarked. “Okay. We’ll ask him next week on the fishing trip. If that fails, I’ll speak to Irene.”

“Mm, okay.” Youngjae took the books back and rose with Daehyun, exiting the library into the corridor. “I’m going to go read them now in my room,” he said.

“Good,” Daehyun praised, threading his fingers through Youngjae’s hair. He sealed their lips quickly and nuzzled their noses. “I’ll come and check on you later.” 

Youngjae nodded blithely and went into his room. Daehyun gazed after him with a fond smile, noting that Youngjae had become more hardworking in his studies. He would sometimes read while lying in Daehyun’s hold and do his homework in the study as the older man painted.

Daehyun strode down the stairs into the hall, passing Jongwan who spun away the moment Daehyun walked by. The older Jung went into the rose garden, humming the tune to Youngjae’s music box. It was one of Daehyun’s first gifts to Youngjae. Daehyun wandered out into the market secretly with Jongwan to purchase it, having been looking for a lullaby music box to comfort baby Youngjae. He was always so blue, sobbing piteously where a smile should have sat.

Mid-afternoon sun rays melted into Daehyun’s skin as he leisurely strolled through the labyrinth. He came across the place where the hole in the bushes used to be, now flourishing with new roses. Daehyun crouched and silently stared at the interweaving of thorn-covered stems, recalling how he pushed his brother in and the cries Youngjae let out from the thorns’ slashes. 

Daehyun raised a finger and prodded a thorn. It was not surprising something as beautiful as a rose would have such malicious and unpleasant companions, for its beauty brought it an early demise at the hands of greedy, selfish gatherers.

Observing the iota of blood oozing on his finger, Daehyun turned to look at his parents’ graves. A breeze foamed past him like trickles of eerie warmth. He swivelled on his feet and headed into the house, settling behind the piano and playing the tune trapped in his mind.

An hour later, Daehyun went upstairs and knocked on Youngjae’s door. He entered to find Youngjae slotting a woven silk bookmark into a novel, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Brother, I read two chapters.”

“Did you skim through it?” Daehyun teased. He went over to the bed and sat down beside Youngjae.

“I didn’t!” Youngjae exclaimed. “I actually liked this one. It’s exciting; I almost skipped to the end to find out who the murderer was. You’ve read this one, haven’t you, Brother?”

“Well, I won’t give you any hints and ruin the book for you.” Daehyun deliquesced into a please smile. “I’m very proud of you for being diligent, Youngjae. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, Brother,” Youngjae chirped. “It makes me really happy when you say that.”

“Give me reasons to say it more often and I’ll gladly do so,” Daehyun returned warmly. “Are you hungry? You ate quite a light lunch.”

“No, I’m okay.” He began squirming and peeked up at his brother, seemingly as though he had something to say.

“What is it?” Daehyun asked. “Do you need something?”

“Um,” Youngjae mumbled incoherently. He played with his fingers and gulped, flickering his eyes back and forth between his hands and Daehyun. 

“I… I want to…” Youngjae was visibly flustered. The tell-tale signs of his thoughts scrawled onto his pink cheeks and the way he shifted his legs, limbs sliding across one another restlessly. 

Daehyun watched his brother for a moment before his lips curled softly. He placed a hand over Youngjae’s fidgeting fingers and he inched forward slowly, pressing their lips together. They separated with a smack of the lips and Daehyun roamed away to lock the door.

In a matter of minutes, Youngjae was sprawled over the mattress, cupping his brother’s jaw to keep their mouths interlinked. It surprised Daehyun the first time how eager Youngjae was, grasping at skin and flesh and kissing back fervently. In fact, Youngjae was the one who initiated the idea after a month of purely kissing. Daehyun had been hesitant but eventually gave in to his brother, not wanting the boy to be embarrassed and disappointed.

Like the first time, Daehyun treated his brother with only the finest of care, stroking down the boy’s body tenderly. He nibbled along Youngjae’s neck and dug his fingers into the sheets when Youngjae exuded a melodious moan. His younger brother’s motions were needy, arching off the bed as he gripped Daehyun’s shoulders.

Tracing a trail down Youngjae’s chest, Daehyun rid his brother of his garments. Youngjae did the same, his lovely eyes clouded with a mist of lust. It amused Daehyun how needy he was. The boy usually asked for sex a few times a week, shyness lacing his words and gestures.

Daehyun kissed down Youngjae’s thighs and the boy whimpered, sitting up to latch their lips together. Daehyun delved his tongue into his brother’s mouth while Youngjae ran a hand down his brother’s chest, reaching further south with curious fingers. Daehyun exhaled thinly and nudged his brother down onto the bed, slowly gyrating their hips together as they kissed.

Between their mess of touches, Youngjae let out a bashful whine, clearly wanting more. Daehyun halted and gazed at his brother’s bare body over the bedsheets. He touched the acutely faint discolourations left behind by the scars from rose thorns, absent bruises a forgotten memory. One hurt more, while the other left vestiges to remind one of its deeds.

Daehyun thumbed his brother’s cheeks and knelt between the boy’s legs. “It will hurt,” Daehyun worried, but Youngjae was undeterred. He spread his legs coyly and his older brother pressed two fingers into the puckered rose between. He stretched the pink ring and searched around for Youngjae’s pleasure spot, rubbing it sensually.

When Daehyun deemed Youngjae was ready, he shifted forward, cautiously slipping his length into Youngjae. The boy tensed up and breathed harshly through his teeth. He quickly eased up in order to accommodate his brother, wiping away the beads of sweat down Daehyun’s face to reassure him. Nevertheless, Daehyun remained still in concern, waiting for his brother to relax.

Youngjae kissed him to tell him he was ready, parting his legs wider. Daehyun leaned over Youngjae and cautiously thrusted in, Youngjae clutching at Daehyun’s back with a wheeze. Daehyun continued at an excruciatingly slow pace, his length pushing into his brother’s tightness. 

Youngjae moaned lavishly as he felt his brother deep within him. There were no more questions about the morality of their love for his brother vanquished any doubtful notion. Youngjae loved his brother in a way that made him want to feel Daehyun intimately, to keep his brother company for eternity without any other person involved. It was wrong to others, perhaps, but Daehyun reminded him that they had no reasons for how averse they felt towards these sort of feelings.

“Faster, Brother,” Youngjae whined. He rocked back against his brother’s thick member, indulging in how it throbbed in his hole and brushed against his walls. Every move struck a spot within Youngjae that had his fingers curling tightly, stars brimming in his vision.

Daehyun complied. He thrusted in harder, showering Youngjae in kisses to comfort him of any lingering pain. Perspiration trickled down Daehyun’s temple and his hormones took a hold of him. He held Youngjae’s legs up and pounded in, his stare raking over his brother’s body. He was aroused by his brother more times he would like to admit in the recent months, but whether their feelings for each other were romantic could never be affirmed. 

Daehyun knew how reprehensible the nature of their relationship despite how he consoled Youngjae. However, it did not matter much to him if it was right or wrong. As long as Youngjae was happy, there was no wrongfulness in what they did.

Youngjae threw his head back with a sharp cry, lifting his hips intuitively as he came onto his chest. Daehyun continued thrusting to let Youngjae submerge in his orgasm, he himself releasing into Youngjae. He slowed down and gradually pulled out of his brother, fondling the boy’s plump cheek.

Youngjae melted into a satisfied smile as he heaved, tugging his brother down for a kiss. Pleasure fogged up his irises and his eyelids fell tiredly.

“Take a rest,” Daehyun soothed. He wiped the fluids off his brother as Youngjae’s head lolled to the side. Youngjae acquiesced and let slumber engulf him swiftly. Daehyun tucked Youngjae into bed and put on his clothes, spending a few minutes to watch his brother peacefully sleep.

He left the room and noticed Jongwan’s silhouette rounding the bottom of the stairs, vanishing from sight. Daehyun entered his study and skimmed through Youngjae’s graded test papers, noting the improvement contentedly.

There was a knock on the door. Daehyun beckoned whoever it was in and Jongwan entered, his expression visibly uncomfortable. He did not make eye contact with Daehyun as he bowed respectfully.

“Sir, your mail.”

“Thank you. Hand them over, please.”

Jongwan kept his eyes glued to the floor as he placed the letters on Daehyun’s desk. He bowed once more and was about to spin around when Daehyun called out to him.

“You know of us, don’t you, Jongwan?” Daehyun breathed, leaning back into his chair. Jongwan parted his lips but not a word escaped his lips.

“I hope you will look after us like you always have,” Daehyun said with a sigh. “It would mean a lot to Youngjae and me.”

Jongwan blinked twice, his sunken eyes lost and his thin fingers twisting around discreetly. “You should not be doing this, sir,” he finally rasped. “You two are brothers.”

Daehyun leafed through his letters. He repeated, “Please take care of us as you did with me back then.”

Jongwan raised his gaze from the carpet. Daehyun sifted the important letters and sat up straight, taking his dip pen.

“You may leave.”

The butler nodded gingerly after a while, exiting the room.

 

\--

 

As a child, Daehyun was well-known as a precocious boy. He was wise beyond his years and he was also bigger and stronger than boys his age. Daehyun’s uncle was immensely proud of his nephew for his introspective disposition, telling his neighbours about the thoughtful answers Daehyun gave to his questions. He speculated if the universe was confined to the limits of its inhabitants and would ask about the morality and purpose of people.

Not only was Daehyun intelligent, he was also mostly well-behaved. He did not fight with his brother over gifts, opting to let his brother play with his new toys first. He did not throw tantrums or whine if his uncle said they ran out of ice cream. Never did he demand for things, often contented with reading beside his sleeping baby brother.

However, as with any child, Daehyun had his immature side as well. The most prominent demonstration of his childishness was his obsession with his little brother. He was just five when his brother was delivered but he already kept to his side since then, watching the nanny feed and change his younger brother.

The Jung household reeked of a constantly grim and melancholic ambience. The couple kept only a few maids and servants at their beck and call, wanting a more private life. The two were wedded in a customary arranged marriage but unlike with Junhong’s parents, the two were noticeably unaffectionate.

Daehyun was a mimicry of the solemnness surrounding the house, a boy of a few words who rarely cracked a smile. He was blue in his aura and his bruises only served to personify his gloomy spirit. For a boy so reserved, he got into too much trouble, falling over whenever he ran around. Bruises decorated his whole body like a painting.

The only times Junhong’s father would see the boy delighted was when he played with his younger brother in his crib. He would often get Jongwan, the head butler, to hang the cradle in his room so he could rock his brother to sleep.

After Youngjae reached the age of one, he began sporting the same bruises as his brother’s. He was an unhappy child who cried often, blue peeking under the blanket he was swathed in. Youngjae’s parents said Daehyun was frequently careless whenever he tried to look after his younger brother, hitting him by accident.

After Youngjae learnt how to walk, the brothers became inseparable—mainly because Daehyun refused to leave Youngjae’s side. It was common to see Daehyun holding Youngjae’s hand, standing far away when their parents called them. He would remain silent as their father beckoned them over, only letting go when Youngjae was forcefully carried away. Whenever the adults were too engrossed in their conversation, Daehyun would steal Youngjae back, bringing his brother into the garden to play.

Little Jung Daehyun would not let anyone near his brother. Not his uncle nor his aunt, not even his own parents. It was safe to say he was obsessed with Youngjae, treating the boy like a favourite toy he would never let anyone else touch. His brother was his and his only.

Daehyun’s parents never did anything about the boy’s unhealthy obsession despite Junhong’s father pleading with them to do so. Perhaps it was bias towards their oldest son that they let Daehyun do whatever he wanted. Youngjae grew to boast bruises even worse than his brother, his built petite and hunched. Nobody could blame Daehyun for he was a boy who did not know better.

Luckily, though, it seemed like the bruises began to fade on Youngjae as Daehyun matured (though he himself still sported the same amount of blue). His possessiveness did not subside, however. It only escalated to a severity everyone could agree was problematic.

Junhong’s father could still remember the day he visited and found Youngjae trapped within the rose bush, wailing his eyes out. Daehyun was crouched beside Youngjae, blocking the hole into the rose bush. His cheek was burning a fiery red and he was crying as his father had slapped him. It was understandable that Daehyun’s father was mad—his youngest child was stuck inside a rose bush filled with heinous thorns, all because Daehyun forced him in on the pretext of Hide and Go Seek. Youngjae himself would not come out, looking to his brother for approval to which his brother adamantly did not give. The adults guessed that Daehyun hid Youngjae in the rose bushes on purpose so his parents could not reach him. This unfortunately happened frequently, so Daehyun’s uncle was told.

The only fortunately thing that arose from the Jungs’ murder was that Daehyun stopped treating his brother roughly. Perhaps he learnt that his brother was all he had and needed to be cherished, or that he morbidly did not have anymore competition with his parents for his little brother, but Daehyun looked after his brother with only tenderness and care.

Youngjae was blue no more. The only colour he flaunted was a rosy red on his cheeks whenever he smiled.

 

\--

 

On a bleak afternoon in March, four-year-old Youngjae laid in Daehyun’s bed with his brother. Daehyun had a storybook in his hand, the nine year old dramatically reading aloud.

“The witch huffed. _“I don’t understand! Why is he so thin?”_ She scratched her head,” Daehyun narrated, raising his voice squeakily when he spoke in the part of the witch. Youngjae giggled and nestled against his brother, absorbed in the fairy tale.

Daehyun continued with gusto. “The witch opened the stove. “ _Well, it does not matter. I am going to eat him right now. Turn on the stove,”_ the witch said to Gretel.”

Youngjae covered his eyes. “Oh no,” he bleated, peeking between the gaps of his fingers. Daehyun melted into a fond smile.

“Gretel opened up the stove. She said, _“I cannot turn the stove on. There is something at the back of the stove.”_ Puzzled, the witch stuck her head in the oven.  With all her might, Gretel pushed the witch into the oven. She unlocked Hansel’s cage and the two children hugged one another, running out of the house."

"A kind swan took them back home to their father. Their stepmother had left, much to Hansel and Gretel’s delight. And so, they lived happily after.” Daehyun closed the book with a smile.

Youngjae cheered, his teeth showing gleefully. “Yay! Happy ending!” The four year old excitedly crawled over to the stash of books at the end of his bed, searching for another story. Some of these books were Daehyun’s that their uncle gave while others were Youngjae’s, also given by their relatives. Youngjae fancied those with bright colours and pictures, so Daehyun spent the afternoon picking out those that fit his liking.

“Can we read this one again, Brother?” Youngjae took out Little Red Riding Hood, holding it between his tiny fingers. 

“Okay.” Daehyun nodded and took the book, Youngjae merrily curling up under the blankets again. It was then that Daehyun the front door slam, the boy jumping up from the mattress. He heard his father’s loud curses and his mother’s irate voice, the two shouting at one another again.

Daehyun’s wide eyes flickered over to his little brother. Youngjae had already shrunk back in fear, the boy’s expression forlorn and timid. There was so much blue on him, eating into his pale skin from his back to his shin like a disease. His cheek was swollen with an ugly bruise from yesterday night where Daehyun made the mistake of leaving Youngjae’s side.

Daehyun tumbled off the bed and grabbed the blanket, taking Youngjae’s hand. “Let’s play Hide and Go Seek,” he chorused with a bright smile, interlocking their fingers tightly. The assurance in his grip had Youngjae nodding obediently, the four year old following after his brother. They scampered through the hallway as quietly as they could out through the back door.

Daehyun could hear the footsteps, marking the daunting countdown. Down the rose labyrinth the two children ran, turning and turning till they reached the small hole in an otherwise perfect canopy of leaves. Daehyun wrapped Youngjae tight in the blanket and held the boy’s shoulders.

“Cover your eyes when you go in,” Daehyun anxiously said. He knew his father would be searching his bedroom now for them. He took a shorter time than his mother, but both were still the same when they came out into the rose garden.

“Remember, don’t come out until I tell you to.” Daehyun kissed Youngjae on the lips and hugged his four year old brother, leaning back to stroke his head.

“Okay,” Youngjae mumbled, kneeling down and crawling into the hole. He whimpered when a thorn scratched the side of his chin but continued moving, sitting at the very end of the tunnel-like hole. Daehyun hastily sat in front of the hiding spot’s entrance, mustering up all the courage in him.

Five, four, three, two, one. The back door burst open and Daehyun quivered upon seeing his furious father. Instead of curling up into a ball, he stayed still, blocking the hole in the garden where his brother hid.

The scathing words were always the same and the questions about where his brother was were never answered. Daehyun cried out as his father ruthlessly wrenched him up by the arm and slapped him. The bruise on his wrist had not recovered yet, making the pain excruciating. He whimpered when he was grabbed by the hair and roughly shook. His father threw him to the ground and kicked him several times, stench of alcohol and tobacco wafting from him.

It seemed like forever before the hits finally ceased, leaving nine-year-old Daehyun a tearful bundle on the grass. Daehyun winced as he tried to lift himself up, every part of him aching brutally. It hurt so much. Daehyun’s eyelids fell and he plopped back onto the ground, wanting to simply close his eyes and let sleep take him away. But the soft whimper from his brother made his eyes flutter open.

“Brother?” Youngjae’s voice bordered on a sob, some sniffles slipping from the four-year-old boy. Daehyun wheezed and painstakingly heaved himself up, quickly wiping away his tears.

“I’m okay,” Daehyun exhaled. He flinched as he rolled over to face where Youngjae was hiding, churning out a smile. Daehyun took in a deep breath and forced himself up onto his knees.

“You can come out now,” he said. Youngjae crawled towards the opening and Daehyun reached in as well.

“Cover your face with both your hands,” Daehyun coaxed. Youngjae acquiesced immediately and Daehyun pulled the boy out, not minding the scratches over his arms. He thumbed the trace of blood over Youngjae’s cheeks and embraced the boy securely.

By this time, Jongwan had already came out into the garden, his footsteps alarming Youngjae. The butler quickly tended to Daehyun’s wounds, his face wrought with sorrow. The ice pacifyingly numbed his wounds and Daehyun sighed in bliss, looking up when he heard the screams between his parents.

The hiding spot worked like a charm again. Youngjae did not get hit. Daehyun smiled at his younger brother who looked so despondent, his tearful eyes taking in the swelling redness over his brother’s body.

“I’m okay,” Daehyun reassured. Youngjae snivelled and crawled over to his brother’s side, clumsily helping Jongwan press the ice to Daehyun’s forming bruises.

Soon, night drenched the mansion, meaning it was bedtime for the two children. Daehyun sadly hugged his brother and gave him a goodnight kiss, lingering by the doorway for a minute or so. The light within the gas lamp flickered as Daehyun watched Youngjae curl up on his side, shutting his eyes.

Eventually, the boy went to bed. His dream was sweet where he walked down memory lane to three years ago. His brother was a baby again, staring up at him with large, doe eyes and an innocently happy smile. Daehyun sat in his room where the white cradle hung from the ceiling, rocking Youngjae carefully. Back then, Jongwan would peek in from time to time to ensure everything was okay.

Youngjae was a good boy who never cried. He was spared from beatings for he was a fragile infant, left for the maids and the nanny to tend to. 

Daehyun woke up from his tranquil dream groggily, rubbing away the crust from his eyes. His body ached from the beating he got this afternoon and he needed rest, but it was an ingrained routine to wake up in the middle of the night to check on his brother. Besides, it had been nine years; he was more than used to the beatings.

Daehyun slipped off the bed and sauntered out of his room. The door to Youngjae’s bedroom was ajar, light streaming into the aisle. Daehyun instantly snapped his eyes open in alarm, terrified that his parents may have paid his brother a visit. He quickly assured himself that wouldn’t be true, else Youngjae would have come into his room to be comforted. If his parents were in there right now, he would hear slaps and his brother’s whimpers.

Still, Daehyun briskly walked towards the door. He peeked into the room and froze when he saw his father standing over Youngjae’s bed. From behind, Daehyun could not tell what his father was doing. He was not moving, simply bent over. There was no noise but a faint gurgling sound.

Daehyun’s blood turned cold. He shoved open the door and grabbed his father’s waist with all his might, sinking his teeth into his father’s back as he pulled the man away. Daehyun’s father let out an anguished yell and stumbled back, his hands letting go of Youngjae’s neck.

Youngjae spluttered violently when the pressure on his windpipe eased, desperately gasping for breath while tears and drool trickled down his face. Daehyun hastily got up from the floor and rushed to his brother’s side, the boy’s blue face slowly gaining back its peach shade. Daehyun trembled and he heaved frenziedly, his gaze leaping from his brother to his father. His wide-eyed, delirious stare clawed through his father’s face and instantly ticked off his father.

Daehyun covered his face as pain seethed through his body, but he did not whimper or cry. The scornful, cruel words were the same. First came the insults, then the reasons. It was his fault Youngjae was blue as Daehyun always thought of himself as better than his father, having the audacity to hide his brother from his parents. If he had not been so insolent for a child, he would not be hit this way.

The last line was the only thing Daehyun clung on to. It stung into Daehyun’s skin like a cutting gust of winter in a blistering summer heat, as though it was a thorn digging all the way till it touched the bone. 

It was a promise to keep Youngjae blue for eternity. Since Daehyun thought he was better than his father, he would be put in place. Tomorrow, Youngjae would be dead for sure. He would suffocate in the hands of his father and stop breathing once and for all. 

When the rugged man left, Daehyun crawled to his brother’s bedside. Youngjae was dazed, not registering Daehyun’s presence as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. 

“Youngjae?” Daehyun croaked. He bit back his tears when he received no response, climbing into bed and turning Youngjae to face him. The four year old was heavily breathing, fingers trembling from the traumatic experience. 

“Youngjae,” Daehyun tried again, dashing away the tears clawing down Youngjae’s face. Only when Daehyun hugged him did he stir. Youngjae came to his senses abruptly, frantically looking around before his brother caught his attention.

Instantly, the boy wailed sorrowfully into his brother’s chest, fingers twisting into Daehyun’s shirt. Youngjae was terrified beyond his wits from how hard he shivered, as if he had broken himself. The thought broke Daehyun’s heart. 

“It’s okay,” Daehyun rasped, pulling the boy as close as he could. “I’m here, Youngjae. Everything’s okay now.”

Daehyun held his brother for hours, soothing him to sleep. He sobbed mutely when he was sure his brother had fallen back into his slumber, pressing his nose into Youngjae’s hair. He was shaking still, and his father’s words wrung around his neck persistently. It burned into his mind till Daehyun could not sleep, the words growing louder and louder.

If he had come in later, what would have happened?

The words became screams and Daehyun pulled his hands away from Youngjae to cover his ears. If the same thing happened tomorrow, would he be there to protect Youngjae? If his father hit him till he passed out, would he have continued strangling Youngjae?

Daehyun shivered uncontrollably and the screams became hysterically loud, taunting him with visions of his brother blue and lifeless. He gazed down at Youngjae and pressed their foreheads together, staring into his younger brother’s shut eyes. The screams died out into the sound of Youngjae’s calm breathing and the answers scribbled into nine-year-old Daehyun’s chest.

His brother was the only thing that mattered to him. He loved him with all his heart, and he would do anything to protect him.

Daehyun hugged Youngjae one last time, making sure the boy was breathing, before slowly getting out of bed. His skin felt cold as he exited the room, throwing a glance back.

Daehyun made his way down the hallway in the eerie quietness, his heart palpitating wildly. Though his palms sweated and his heartbeat thumped nauseatingly in his skull, only a singular intent guided Daehyun into the kitchen. This was the only thing he could do to protect Youngjae.

The knife was freezing in his hand. He held it ineptly and anxiously bolted back to his brother’s room, checking to see if his brother was okay. From the window sill, he could see Jongwan in the garden, trimming away the weeds and pruning the bushes.

Daehyun’s hands shuddered as the boy crept into his parents’ room, holding his breath. His mind was blank as he stood by his parents’ bed, the two sleeping with their backs turned to each other. The sight of his father ripped in the fresh promise from before and Daehyun clutched at his knife.

It was the thought of his brother smiling that made Daehyun bring down the knife with all his might. Red splattered onto Daehyun’s face and trickled down his father’s neck, the knife’s handle sticking out gruesomely. He struggled to pull it out and brought it down repeatedly, panic now guiding his movements. He didn't want his father to wake up and stop him. 

Daehyun pulled out the knife one last time. His father’s eyes kept closed and there was no whatsoever from the man. 

Daehyun trembled at what he had done, breathing thinly. His entire face was slathered with blood, thick crimson rolling down his chin onto his neck. He  looked over at his mother still fast asleep. There was no difference between the two who roughly hit his brother for no reason whatsoever. If not his father, it would be his mother next time.

He winded over and thought of his brother fast asleep in his room. The knife slit through his mother’s throat and red splashed over him once more, dousing his clothes. Daehyun stabbed again and again and finally wrested the knife out, dropping it onto the floor loudly. His knees buckled from anxiousness and he fell down with a loud thud, backing away instinctively.

His parents stayed absolutely still. His mother did not get up and slap him for coming into their room, neither did his father pull him up by the collar and yell at him. Daehyun immersed in the utter silence, not a thought crossing his mind as the trepidation wrangled through his body.

Nothing.

Daehyun numbly stared at the bed as blood continued soaking his clothes. His parents were gone. There would be no more cursing and no more beatings.

There was a soft knock on the door and Daehyun tensed up, fear suffusing his entire body. This was terribly wrong. He’d killed his own parents. There was no doubt he would be punished for this—imprisoned for decades, or hung. 

But he did it for his brother. 

The thought permeated Daehyun with a surprising calmness, alleviating the despair that made him regret his actions. He did it to protect his brother. Whatever it was he would have to weather as consequences, Daehyun did not mind if it meant his brother would be safe.

The door creaked open. Jongwan stopped short as the light from the hallway illuminated half of the room, only touching Daehyun’s side. The butler widened his eyes at little Daehyun covered in blood, pallor tainting the man’s flabbergasted face.

He rushed to Daehyun’s side and immediately checked the boy for injuries. “Are you okay, young master? Where does it hurt? I’ll get the doctor right away.” He wanted to lift the boy up but Daehyun shook his head. 

At this moment, Jongwan noticed the gleaming knife lying a distance away from Daehyun. He stared at it and swivelled his head back to Daehyun, bewilderment enveloping his face.

“Father was going to kill Youngjae,” Daehyun croaked.

Jongwan stared at Daehyun, the horror gradually flooding his expression. He lurched towards his masters and checked their pulses, stepping back when he realised they were dead. He grasped his forehead in sheer panic as his eyes swept over the bloody mess. It took a while for him to return his attention to Daehyun, seemingly having gathered his wits. 

He swallowed and paced over, every footstep leaden. Kneeling down, Jongwan hastily wiped the red off Daehyun’s face with his handkerchief. He carried the boy up with wobbly arms and brought him to the bathroom. 

Jongwan undressed Daehyun, the boy compliantly stepping out of his clothes. The butler hurriedly took the dirty clothes away and turned on the gas water heater, scampering to get a bucket and some rags.

Daehyun stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection, traces of vermilion caught between his eyebrows. He peered at the red over his hands as a wry contentedness whelmed him. He did not know what would happen to him, but he did it. Their parents were dead now. They could not hurt his brother anymore.

Youngjae would never be blue again.


End file.
